Flaws
by HeCallsMeHisChild
Summary: An MSA Ghost fanfic. Just Legends story 4. The survivors of Demeter's curse have returned home, more bedraggled than triumphant. There has been no time to cope, no time to process, and no time to heal. Now the Mystery Skulls shelter with head paranormal researcher Dib Membrane, licking their wounds and hoping to reconstruct some semblance of normalcy.
1. Come Away With Me

**Note:** Kicking it off! The title fic song is Flaws by Bastille, I recommend listening to the songs that I title the fics after, because unlike the lyric fragments I use to title the chapters, the fic songs actually carry the weight and feel of the fic's theme within the whole of their lyrics, so if you want to get a feel for what the fic will be like, listen to the song! CHAPTER title excerpted from You're Not Alone by Erutan.

…...

Lewis drifted restlessly over the tops of the bookcases, keeping one eye on the door. Mystery had herded Kay and Arthur to a separate room so Lewis could manifest. Neither had spoken, and their silence gnawed at Lewis. Arthur's eyes were flat, devoid of the gleam that accompanied the planning and scheming Lewis had come to mark as normal over the past few days, and Kay's jerky movements struck him as more bird-like than human. Teles had followed them, not acknowledging Dulcie.

After insisting Vivi-chan would find them when she had everything settled, Chloe had wedged herself behind the front desk, resting out of sight on the floor with Dulcie curled up against her flank. Neither had moved much since, and Lewis assumed they slept.

"Lewis-sempai?"

Obviously Chloe hadn't quite drifted off. Lewis settled on top of the foreign fiction section. "Yeah, Chloe?"

She nibbled her lower lip, a subtle movement greatly exaggerated by her massive muzzle so that she nearly chomped on it as she hedged, "You knew me once, didn't you?"

"Of course. Nobody got me my Sailor Moon merch faster." He cranked up a grin.

"I mean before I was a girl."

"Oh." He stared down at his knees. "Yeah. I guess I did."

"Can you tell me about that?"

Lewis flickered, his face giving way to a skull. "It was a bad time. If you can't remember it, you're lucky."

"But I do. I mean, not all of it. Little bits, and only in certain times. Like when you brushed my coat and tried to get me to eat Stir-Fry-A-La-Honey. When you did that and talked like you did, I felt safer, like you had said that to me a hundred times before while doing the same thing."

Lewis didn't respond.

"And when Arthur-sama was burned up and I held him, I said, 'No little boy, not again,' and I don't know why I said the word 'again' as if I'd seen these injuries before. And I healed him without knowing how to do it, like my body remembered what needed to be done. Lews-sempai...?"

"Yes," he answered softly. "I was the little boy. You said there were other children, but they were all too afraid to talk to you. You said I was the only one that ever talked about getting away and breaking you out too. You helped me hold onto my name every time I started to blank out. I couldn't say your real name, not the way you whinnied and snorted it out, so I called you Chloe. You said that was fine."

"And what-"

"Chloe. I know it doesn't seem like it, but forgetting is the greatest gift Duet could have given you. If you have fragments, don't pursue them. Let them go." He raised his eyes. "Focus on what you have now. I know people are very keen to tell you what Duet would have wanted, and truthfully I don't think he wanted you to stay here. But more than that, he would have wanted to see you happy and content, and you won't get that trying to remember. What's left of that past isn't a threat to you anymore. If it was, I'd be the first to tell you everything I remember."

The corners of Chloe's mouth pulled back, but one ear twitched toward the door, and she ducked her head lower. Lewis sank back behind the bookcase, peering around the side as the handle jiggled.

"Hey! Flamebrain!" Vivi hollered through the door. "Good call on the lock, but it's me!"

Lewis lit up, phasing through the bookcase and then through the front door, scooping Vivi up in his arms and spinning her around.

"Well. Hi to you too," she laughed. "Geez, it's like I was gone for a year or something. Miss me much?"

He couldn't answer. Could only hold her, his outline shimmering blue. The Mystery Skulls had won, had beat the Shiker and his mistress at their own game. And Vivi was still here. He touched her face with his fingertips, tracing the faint scars across her face.

"Hello? Lewis Pepper, Earth to Lewis Pepper, use your words please." She rolled her eyes. "C'mon, big guy, put me down."

Reluctantly, he did, and Vivi patted his arm. "We've got a lot to catch upon, and I have an idea I'd like to go over with you, but first, I've found us a safe place. Now, it's not going to sound like a safe place at first, but it's the best I can get. Remember that TA I used to moon over in 12th grade?"

Lewis nodded.

"Well, he's a pretty big name now. And while he was the one that had your parents under lock and key-hear me out!-he acknowledges his methods weren't anywhere near kosher. He's offering us a safe place to hunker down as long as he gets to watch us and take notes. Any tests will be run with our full consent, or not at all."

Lewis crackled with alarm. "Vivi, we can't trust another team! The whole point of teams like us is to contain or dispatch the paranormal."

"But he's not on a team like us, he's more interested in the research of it all." She took one of his hands, squeezing. "Don't worry, Lew. I'm not interested in losing you a second time, it's not going to happen. What is going to happen is that you and I are on cleanup detail for a long time. We owe Squire and Kay that much, yeah?"

Lewis subsided. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well. I't still pretty fuzzy, but I've got some nice snippets in my head of a certain hulking purple-haired hunk hanging around, taking very gentle care with and around me, until I wanted to come out from under the covers again. Y'know, in the bad times."

He turned to glance at the front door of Tome Tomb. "This isn't like a swing, Vivi."

"Of course not, I'm no daft-headed fan spinner. I know this is different, but you'd be surprised how effective the things you did were. And I think they need some of that now. And Mr. Pepper, too, I'll need you to get him from Lance's place. Dulcie and Teles can help, but not in the same shift as each other. So, I say we get in there with Team Recovery and bring them up to speed with the plan before the vans come."

"Vans?"

"Yeah. We can't travel over there in the open, so Dib's sending over vans to bring us in. C'mon." She tugged at his arm. "Unlock the door, we have to get ready."

….

 _You don't know where you are. You think there are people around you that are familiar, but you are only sure of one of them, and that is the one you hold to._

 _Something has slipped inside. A fault line-mind or soul?-gives way. You were sure there would be a struggle for control, but now find both of us paralyzed. How is this?_

 _It doesn't matter. Stop churning. Too much, too fast, there has never been enough time. Only hold onto what is in front of you and do not let go. Letting go may mean the end of us._

 _Every sound sharpens. The drag of the second hand across a clock face. The quick, shallow breaths at your ear. The staccato heartbeat, never slowing now that it has begun again. Her fear will become yours if you do not calm her._

 _You are numb, and numb is only the thin ice above a chasm. Calm her. You lift your hand and stroke her hair. This moderates the heartbeat a fraction of a second, but still too fast. You stop, working your fingers under the hair at the base of the skull, pressing the tips of your fingers into the skin and muscles supporting her head._

 _The pulse slows drastically, the breathing settling into a different rhythm. You continue working the tension out of her neck, wondering if it is anxiety or rigor mortis you are ridding her of._

 _Something to do. You work, with one hand, from her neck down to her left shoulder and all the way down her arm. She is dressed in the same stupid greek drapery as you. Gods help the first trick or treater who shows up at your door looking like this. You work down her arm slowly, then switch to the other shoulder. The second hand drags insistently, but you do not count. Neither do you count the sighs from the other side of the room, you only listen to the contented pulse and breath before you._

 _She lists forward and you catch her, startled from your mindlessness, or was it mindfulness? It is hard to tell the difference right now. She is asleep already, and the sight is infectious. There is a wall behind you. You are the cushion, and that is all right. You lean on the wall, and she leans on you._

 _Sleep comes in the space of three sluggish breaths._


	2. Just To Make It Through

Human face. Wouldn't do to startle Lance. Keep the hair smooth, no sudden bursts of flames. No phasing; living people knock on doors. Deadbeats tucked away. Lewis was shocked Lord Hades had let him keep them, but there he was with five Deadbeats and Vivi with one. Bracing himself, he knocked on the front door.

A lengthy racket followed. Two minutes later the door swung open and he found himself staring down barrel of a pistol. He would have laughed if it weren't for the rings under Lance's bloodshot eyes.

Lance blinked slowly. Deliberately. Took his free hand and pinched his own cheek.

"It's me, Lance." Lewis lifted his hands cautiously, more for Lance's sake than his own. "Got clear of Vivi. You're not seeing things."

"Where's Artie?" he demanded, then reached forward, grabbing Lewis by the arm and yanking him inside. The gun remained up, pointing at the door as he swung it shut and began deadbolting the door-three on each side and two through the floor. "Say something!"

"He's alive and he's back. Lance, please breathe, there's a lot to tell, and-"

"There's only a few things I wanna know, though. That was one." Lance set the gun on a short table by the front door and shot Lewis a dark look from under frazzled brows. "Next is how much of Artie's left?"

Lewis averted his eyes. "We don't know yet. He won't talk right now. And if he does talk, assume that what's talking isn't him. He gave up his voice, and now that monster is the only part of him that can speak."

Lance ran a hand through his beard up through his sideburns, scratching his head.

"Good ta see ya, kid," he said, abruptly. "Wish it weren't the way it is."

Lewis clasped his hands behind his back, keeping his eyes down. "Yeah. Me too."

"Sorry didn't get ta go to yer funeral neither. Artie wasn't okay 'bout missing it, but said he had ta get his arm on an' start figurin' what happened to ya."

Lewis' head dipped lower. It was too surreal to talk to Lance about his funeral. He hadn't been there, why would it matter to him who was or wasn't there? By rights he should have passed on anyway. He sidestepped with a question. "Lance, you look like hell warmed over. What's with the gun? And the deadbolts?"

Lance's eyes narrowed. "Been under siege damn near every day since I brought yer pa back. Disconnected the phone, slapped every lock I could find on this door and the ones leadin' out to the parts that ain't been fixed since _your sister_ ," he emphasized pointedly, "set fire to the place. Some loony's been tryin' ta get yer pa back in, sent some over enthusiastic muscle to harass me."

Lewis simmered, his hair licking up. Apologetic or no, he would have words with this Dib Membrane when they arrived.

"You did good, Lance. Thank you. But we've established a kind of working relationship with them now."

"Whose harebrained idea was that?" Lance exclaimed.

Lewis winced. "Vivi's."

Lance glared. "Boy, is Vivi off her meds?"

"Yeah, but she's not swung either. She has connections with the head guy there and we need a place to lay low for a long time. He's offering if he can watch. And trust me, we've got the firepower to bite back if he tries something. I think Vivi's the only human left at this point."

Lance turned away, exhaling slowly. "So. Come ta get yer pa?"

"Yeah."

"Fine. But I'm comin' with. Already got Marty coverin' the shop fer now, he can handle more."

"Good."

Lance glanced up at that.

"What, you thought I'd put up a fight about taking you? Artie needs you."

"Thought you said he wasn't talkin'."

"He's not, but he's a shell right now, Lance. We have Kay back, but she's lost her mind, and Arthur's barely holding on himself."

All kinds of questions crinkled the corners of Lance's eyes, but he kept his mouth shut. "Yer pa's this way. Let's get ready. But, kid, he's in a bad way too."

The last he'd seen of his father, The Shiker stood over him, draining away his memories. Did he even know his own name? A coldness gripped Lewis and his outline flickered. He would have to ask his father what he did and didn't know. Those questions…

"Kid. Kid!"

Lewis took a step back. Deadbeats chittered in distress, swarming up the outside of his suit to pat his face.

"Kid!" Lance clapped his hands hard, drawing Lewis' attention. "Your face! Yer pa's real close, don't mess with his head more!"

Mortified, Lewis reassumed human features. "I'm... I'm sorry, Lance... I just... some bad stuff..."

"Bad stuff all around, I get it." Lance rolled a strand from his sideburns around a finger, ripping it free. Several patches of skin showed through his beard. "But whatever it is, yer pa needs ya. What I got outta him is he forgot a lotta stuff, Vivi swore she'd help later, and all he's got in recall is you an' Kay. No wife an' no other kids he knows of. Thinks he's a cook on the high seas, but knows timeline's off on that idea. Kid, please. Whatever ya have ta do, I need t'see my nephew. It's been killin' me. No offense."

Lewis managed a weak grin. "Tasteless exaggerations are the least of my concerns, Lance. Where is he?"

"Only place 'sides the bathroom he'll bother with. Kitchen. Guessin' you can't smell that. I don't get much sleep, but I don't starve with him here, that's fer sure."

Lewis followed Lance's gesture into the kitchen. The sink was crowded with used bowls and plates. Along the edge of the sink stood a drinking glass with three egg yolks, a bowl of refried beans, a block of cheese with all outside edges pared off, and an onion that looked to be growing itself.

Timothy hunched in front of Lance's fridge. No longer dressed in black, he wore one of Lance's grease-stained pullovers and pants he could swim in, had they not been belted painfully tight. His head was showing a thin layer of yellow and pink fuzz, but it was the silence that caught Lewis off guard the most. Timothy loved talking about what he was doing as he cooked. It didn't matter how many times he had made a dish, he would lovingly list each ingredient as he used it. Describe what he was doing was he was doing it. Proclaim each stage to smell 'heavenly' and over exaggerate his own congratulations, particularly if he had invented a new dish.

The stooped shoulders. The trembling hands. The silence as he shuffled through the contents of Lance's fridge. A mirror of Lance's question hung in Lewis' mind. How much of his father was left?

He mimicked the sound of clearing his throat as softly as possible. Timothy leaped back, dashing the glass of eggs and bowl of beans to the ground as he splayed against the sink. Lewis held very still, allowing Timothy to catch up to his senses.

"The last time I saw him, he was dead," Timothy choked. "What is he still doing here? Is there something I did wrong? Is that part of what I forgot?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Dad." Lewis held his hands out ever so slowly. "I'm not angry. Not at you. You know…" he focused on forming each word, trying to distance his mind from their meaning. "You know who I am?"

Timothy stared at him.

The silence hurt. "Dad, please. You have to know me. I know it's different, but I'm still here. I'm here for you."

"It's happening again," Timothy moaned. "The mixup. If I don't say something he'll leave, I don't want him to leave!" Timothy lurched forward, grabbing Lewis' hands.

Lewis squeezed Timothy's hands, taking the accompanying sorrow and gratitude in equal measure. At least his father knew him. "I'm not leaving, Dad. We're going somewhere where we'll be safe. We're going to take care of you, Vivi and me. We'll help you get better, I promise."

Timothy's eyes welled up. He said nothing.

"It'll be okay, Dad." He pulled over a chair and guided Timothy to sit. He raised his voice some. "I'm going to take you and Lance to the safe place now. It's the place you were before, but Vivi had a nice chat with the boss, and I'm going to have my own personal talk with him. Nobody will bother you without your permission. Now, listen. You know I'm a ghost now, right?"

Timothy gave a little hiccup, his head sagging back and forth in an approximation of a nod that broke Lewis' heart.

"Okay. So I have some special tricks. One of them is I can make my own mansion appear wherever I want it. As soon as Lance comes in here, I'm going to open…" He scanned the kitchen, settling on the door at the far end. "That door over there, and it's going to lead to my mansion. Then we'll open another door from in there, and be at the safe place. Okay?"

"He's going to use the bathroom to teleport?" Timothy's shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Why not. Everything's madness now."

"Coming!" Lance called, bustling in with a tote bag. "Just had ta grab a few'a my things. And Artie's. Guessin' he had ta shed skins a few times, so he's either naked or in someone else's clothes." He slapped the tote. "Familiar duds'll help."

"Great. And I have his tools in the mansion. Maybe you can draw him out by working with him on something." Lewis crossed the kitchen, his hands sweeping out and swiveling at the ends of his wrists until he reached the bathroom door. He dropped one hand to open it. The strain began to set in almost immediately as he swung the door open, grating out, "Hurry."

Lance helped Timothy to his feet, half-dragging the shuffling cook through the door. Lewis followed, closing the door quickly. He folded his hands a moment, concentrating. Vivi had escorted him and the others to an underground lab, pulling him into a room full of recording equipment-visual, audio, electromagnetic readers, ectoplasm sensors, thermal scanners, and a half dozen other types-and told him to return there. His grand entrance would be the first observation conducted on their group.

Unfolding his hands, he crooked his fingers, splaying his hands in wide, sweeping arcs, pumping them twice and throwing open the door.

And there was the room.

"Out!" he urged, the edges of the door crawling with flame. "Hurry!"

…..

"You do realize that half your team is catatonic?" Dib ran a hand through his hair. "And I'm not sure I'm equipped to house a unicorn! I cannot believe I just said that."

Vivi raised an eyebrow. "You're the leading expert on the paranormal, I'm sure you can think of something. Chloe was in human form for quite a while, I'm sure an oversized soft bed will suffice. Her appetite has probably quadrupled, though. Actually, not sure when any of us last ate. That would be a good place to start."

Dib sighed, flicking open a datapad and flipping through images. "So we have, according to you, one full blooded siren straight from greek mythology, two half-siren girls-one of whom has lost her mind-a kitsune, a unicorn, yourself who is human, these little pink ghosts you call Deadbeats, Arthur who is, and I quote, 'Sort of human and sort of not, it's a long story.' And a ghost and one more human en route."

"Mhmm."

"I'll need consultation on how we house and feed everybody."

"Sure thing, just as soon as Lew gets back." Vivi forced a smile. "Much as I love our chat, it would be good if I had a second member of the team around to weigh in."

She could see her own nervous grin in the reflection of Dib's goggles and wondered how well it held up. Her bravado wasn't as high as it was an hour ago, and with Squire out of commission she wanted Lew close to give a baseline for anything that could be "out of line."

He glanced down at the pad, now flashing and beeping. "Looks like that's now." He gestured for her to follow as he strode down the hall, his trench coat flaring. Vivi swallowed a giggle at the drama that coat embodied, following at his heels.

Dib ushered her into an observation room, connected by a one way window to the room she had directed Lewis to return to. She was sure Dib had been watching the whole time, but he had not accompanied her as she guided her friends from the vans deep into the facility's depths. Dib had built something like an underground military complex, marked only by a questionable looking gas station and mini-mart above ground. Entry for humans was through the bathrooms-a tribute to an old enemy, Dib had explained-and through the snack freezers for anything, or anyone, too large to fit through the bathroom doors.

Dib leaned toward the mirror, tapping the datapad with a finger as he peered in. Vivi pointed at the door on the opposite wall of the room. "Should be coming through there, see the smoke? Any second now."

A moment later the door flew open, Lance and Mr. Pepper staggering through. Lewis was right behind them, slamming the door and slumping against it.

Readouts and meters in the observation room began flashing and blatting for Dib's attention, but he ignored them, staring into the room.

"You know, most of the time I have my mind on the galaxy and other potentially hostile inhabitants of it, but I always believed in ghosts. I just never got the proof I was hoping for."

Vivi frowned. "Remember our deal. Nothing without our permission."

"Yeah, I remember. We have to work out the details on how this can actually benefit me, you know. But while we're here..." He leaned forward, pressing a button by the window. "Lewis Pepper, I presume."

Lewis came to attention, fixing on the one-way window and storming for it. Dib took three steps back as Lewis passed straight through the window, his features melting, dripping away to reveal the skull beneath.

Alarmed, Vivi put out a hand. "Lewis-"

"I'm not going to hurt him, Vee." His voice was dangerously quiet. "I'm just going to make sure he understands a fraction of what he'll be facing if anything remotely like the previous situation happens again." His eyes fixed on Dib's goggles. "Which it will not. Happen, that is. Ever. Are we clear, Doctor?"

Dib's jaw tightened. "Perhaps Vivi did not properly convey my apologies for the previous situation."

"She did. But I was reminded of its effects when retrieving my father." Lewis' hand swept back, gesturing to the room he had vacated. On sight, Mr. Pepper appeared to have some kind of degenerative disease the way he shook, supported only by Lance's grip.

Dib ducked his head. "Yes. Reports say he had begun to show signs before we retrieved him from the police station, but I am aware we intentionally exacerbated them. I hold to some theories, however, that such damage may be reversed." He lifted his chin. "If you all will permit me to study the effects of the siren voice on humans, I may be able to validate these theories."

"That is entirely up to each member of the team," Vivi answered quickly.

"It is, but I expect there to be some explanation of how this may benefit them," Dib returned. "Especially given how many records I'm going to have to work on mitigating or expunging."

"I will, I promise. And we'll sit down and brief you on the whole situation soon. But for now, room assignments?" Vivi slipped her hand into Lewis'. "Some team members aren't ready to interact with each other, their recovery might hinge on where they're placed."

Dib sighed, pulling up the team photos. "Begin."

Vivi reclaimed her hand and began to pace, working out the situation. "Kay and Arthur are interdependent at this point, separating them would not be a good idea unless they each have a different stable team member to be with-and that only for short periods of time. Mystery needs to keep watch on Arthur. The most neutral team members are Dulcie and Chloe. Kay shouldn't be in range of Lewis or Mrs. Pepper for now. And until we know Squire's-Arthur's-state, Lewis should steer clear so he's not in danger." She glanced up at Lewis. "Agreed?"

Lewis shivered. "Agreed."

"You got Lance. That's great, Lance is essential for Arthur. He's human too, by the way," she noted to Dib, who scribbled the information. "Arthur's uncle."

"Who you _also_ owe an apology to." Lewis folded his arms. "For laying siege to his house."

"I'll send him roses and chocolates, what do you want from me?" Dib grumbled. "Fine. Anything else?"

"Keep Dulcie away from Mom and Dad for now." Lewis tilted his head back. "Still things to clear up there. Mom and Dad should be separate too."

"What sort of soap opera did I agree to?" Dib groaned. "Okay, sum up. You and Vivi get a room, that much is obvious. Chloe and Dulcie hole up in a room near Kay, Arthur, and chaperone Mystery. Mr. Kingsmen and Mr. Pepper share, and that leaves Mrs. Pepper and the body she lugged in."

Lewis glanced back into the containment room. "It would be good if you could give Dad access to a kitchen. I think it will help him, and you'll be a happy camper if it does, I guarantee it."

"What does this look like, a restaurant?" Dib pulled a stylus from his coat pocket, chewing on the end of it. "This is a research laboratory."

"With a bunch of sleep deprived paranormal researchers who probably don't get a hot meal that often. Come on, you have to have something," Vivi wheedled.

"If he can make something using the fridge and the sink he can knock himself out, but it's not like I can make an industrial kitchen appear out of thin air." Dib flicked the stylus at Lewis. "Unless that mansion of yours has a full service kitchen, we're all stuck with Poop Cola and leftover MacMeaty's."

Vivi held her breath, but Lewis turned thoughtful, his features reappearing. "That may be best, on second thought. In fact, I will need your largest room."

"What for?"

"To materialize the full mansion. Kay and Arthur will need a room here, in your facility. They had some… bad experiences in my mansion. But everyone else would be better accommodated and cared for there." Lewis raised an eyebrow. "I assume you wouldn't object to a simple spectre materializing a building within your research facility for you to observe and potentially tour. Under the circumstances."

Vivi smirked at the measured breath Dib took before answering, "No, of course not. I will have our storage vault cleared. One more matter of business... what is this about a funeral? The unicorn-"

"Chloe," Vivi corrected.

"Chloe said we needed to have a funeral and Mrs. Pepper won't let anyone near the body she's carrying. So...?"

Vivi sobered. "Two funerals. One for Chloe's caretaker, Duet. There's nothing to study, it's a human body. And the other funeral will be for Aji Pepper."

The corner of Dib's mouth pulled down, and Lewis' hair flickered.

"Vivi," Dib said carefully, "I'm not sure you fully grasp the charges against Aji and what they entail. You can't just bury her. Her body has to be turned over the authorities. It will be all I can do to keep the ensuing autopsy from leaking to the public. And do not-" he pointed at Lewis, "blame me for this. I'm going to do what I can to fix your mess, but some things can't be glossed over."

"She deserves a proper burial!" Lewis protested.

"What she does or doesn't deserve isn't even up for discussion. The murder charge isn't something I can poof away for you, it's _still_ national news."

Vivi bit her lip, glancing down. "But. Maybe you can. Um. Have the autopsy done here. So... you control the results."

Silence.

Hoping Lewis wouldn't hate her forever, Vivi blundered on. "I mean. Obviously you had enough pull with the authorities to get Mr. and Mrs. Pepper released to you. Do the autopsy here. Tell them what they want to hear. Then let us bury her afterward."

"I don't like it." Lewis' voice echoed ominously.

"I don't like you right now," Dib retorted. "You want me to help your father? Things can't be nice and neat the way you want them. I can't inspect a living specimen the same way I can a dead one. I can satisfy the authorities and at the same time gather information that might help reverse the effects on your father. Or you can have a happy little funeral and triple his recovery time, unless of course the authorities descend on my facility and haul you all off because they find out I'm hosting you and they suspect Aji Pepper of not being human."

The temperature in the room rose but Lewis kept his mouth shut.

"I'll take that as an 'okay fine.' " Dib sighed. "I'm going to need someone to explain to Mrs. Pepper. There's a morgue locker where we can store the body for now. And if you need a burial place for this other person... is there something I need to expunge about this?" When Vivi shook her head, he continued. "We can arrange visual cover overhead so you can have some kind of standard funeral. But it has to be out here, middle of nowheresville. Okay?"

Vivi nodded.

"Good. Now that we're all agreed, I'm sure everyone is hungry, and I'm really not prepared. I'll call in to Bloaty's for some pizza." He paused. "Unless there's some kind of dietary restriction I don't know about?"

"Just make sure there's a veggie pizza for Chloe and anchovies for Arthur. I think everyone else will make do with the basics." Lewis turned to Vivi, hesitant. "I have to… get Aji's body from Mom. Would you…?"

"I'll keep an eye on your Dad and get Lance to Arthur. No worries." She patted his arm. "Do what you need to and materialize the mansion. Some food and a good night's sleep will get us all off to a good start. We can get things moving tomorrow."

Lewis glanced at Dib, who tapped something into his datapad. It spat out a sheet of paper, which he tore off and handed to Lewis. "Facility map. X marks where we left the rest of your team for now. I'll radio the staff, anyone will be able to direct you to the morgue. Off the cuff, why isn't Aji hanging around like you?"

The paper smoldered as Lewis took it. "Different unfinished business. Storytime is later." He phased out of the room, and Dib sighed.

"Your boyfriend is going to be a pain every step of the way, isn't he?"

"Give us a little space and time. Honestly, Dib, this is patience from us right now, it's been a long week. I swear you'll get the whole story soon." She walked over to the connecting door. "But for now, I have to get Lance to Arthur. Pizza would be great, please and thank you."

…...

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from Move Along by the All American Rejects.


	3. Left Me Feeling Numb

_When you are roused awake, you walk as directed, your arm around her. You are not sure who is directing you, but your feet respond. It is like a kind of blindness, shutting out the surrounding details, but it is blissful to be unaware of anything except the movement of your feet and the warmth at your side._

 _You sit. You wait. You are directed to walk again. Walk, then sit. There may be others nearby. You do not like this. There is always one other besides you and her, but he keeps his distance. Now there is a cacophony of scents in the room, tugging at thoughts and memories and feelings and you want none of it. You bury your face in her hair to escape. You do not want to think about anything. Too much. All too much._

 _A soft voice. Flinch. No, too much. Voice sounds like dammed up tears. Not now, not ever again. Do not ask anything of us, please, for the love of any god listening. There is nothing left._

 _"Ar-thur?"_

 _Air keens out of your lungs with a whine and a growl. Do not give us that either, it is almost worse than asking something of us. It is not ours, it is not ours. We have none, we have nothing, do not give us that word, it does not match. We cannot bear the weight of it, we will suffocate in its grief._

 _The voice is guided away by other quiet murmurs. The numbness returns, bless the absence of anything._

 _Time and time and time passes, no meaning in it. One breath after another. She is asleep again, and it is good._

 _"Artie!"_

 _Gods no, please. Do not do this to us. The ice is cracking under us, there is nothing to catch us if we fall, do not say it._

 _"Oh gods, Artie, what'd they do t'ya?"_

 _Oil and sweat and grime of a hard day's work in the shop. No, please, no._

 _"Artie, for gods sakes look at me!"_

 _You lash out with your teeth, sharp and tearing. They close on nothing but air because you refuse to see what is around you. It is only a warning. You don't want more blood, more pain, you only want yours to stop._

 _"Girlie, what happened to my nephew?" Something has broken in that voice. Make it stop speaking. You whine, pawing at your ears._

 _"He's recovering." That voice is different. It's sad, but it has a place to anchor. You allow yourself to listen._

 _"Sure as hell don't look like recovery!"_

 _"I know it doesn't. But I told him he didn't have to worry about anything when we came back. That I'd take care of all the details. He's had to do that for too long, now. It's my turn, so he's let go of everything for a while."_

 _"How d'ye know?" Anguish. Rage. "How d'ye know he'll ever be more'n this again? Looks like he's got a foot in the grave and t'other in the loony bin!"_

 _"Because he needs me to believe in him!" Flash of anger, but then soft, "He probably needs that from you most of all. He's there, Lance. But he's been through a lot, and he needs care and space. Both."_

 _You do not connect to the meaning of all the words, but you allow them to linger just long enough to bolster you against the cracks._

Zip. Zip. _What do they want now._

 _Something makes it through to the eyes. It's waving back and forth, and whatever it is you want it. You allow this thing to come into focus._

 _A set of clothes. White shirt. Orange pants. Puffed vest. You coil to lunge for them, but pause. Cannot leave her. Will not._

 _"Squire." That voice again, the anchor voice. "You need to go with Lance, okay? Mystery and Lance are going to get you cleaned up and help you change."_

 _Your arm tightens around her. No. Will not leave._

 _"Squire, I've got Kay. She needs to change and wash up too. I promise I'll take care of her and I won't let anything happen to her."_

 _Your grip loosens just a little bit. You want the clothes so badly._

 _"I promise, right after we're done we'll put you two back together."_

 _You release her, and it is a small tearing of yourself but you must be rid of this sheet._

 _You are guided again, though you have a vague concept of who is guiding you this time. Directions are given by a strange voice-decidedly distracted and irritable-and you are led farther away._

 _Running water. It is a good sound. The horrendously offensive garment is removed, but you are not given the new clothes. Instead, you are guided into the running water. You do not blink, do not flinch. It is hot and you are being scrubbed. Washed. Like a child. Like a kit._

 _Days of dead skin and sweat and dirt begin to slough away. You cannot stop thinking of her as long as you are away, but this is a good thing. Maybe she is having good things happen to her too. She needs them. You need them._

 _You are tugged gently from the water. Towel. You remember the nappy, clean feel of it, and it swipes the water from your body. And then the clothes, glorious orange and white. You do not need to be dressed, you are very eager to dress yourself in this, your favorite outfit._

 _Your. Your favorite. Favorite. Clothes. Clothing._

 _Whose favorite outfit is this?_

 _"Artie?"_

 _That voice. You lift your eyes, the filters falling away. The eyes are heartbroken, but the face is familiar. You test the familiarity. Will it destroy us?_

 _"Artie, please-" He reaches out, and it all snaps backward. Too fast. You snarl, retreating in yourself as the other voice interrupts._

 _"Lance, you can't. Not all at once."_

 _"The hell I can't, that's my nephew! I saw 'im, he was there fer a second!"_

 _"I know, but you have to slow down. You've no idea what he's been through and, of course we will catch you up as soon as we can. But if you care for him, as I know you do, you have to move slowly."_

 _You are restless. You need to get back to her. You left, you are cleaned, you are in your clothes. Where is she? You must return. You whine, stretching your hearing for the sound of her voice. You hear it, faint. She cries for you still._

 _"We will take you to your room," you are told by the calmer one. "When Kay is ready, we will bring her there too. She is also fragile, Arthur. Bear it a little longer, for her."_

 _For her. You will bear it and wait. She is with a good person. She is not being harmed. You allow yourself to be led and seated in a room-different than before. The crowdedness is gone, there is only the angry, anxious one and the calmer one._

 _You will wait._

…...

As soon as Lance and Mystery left with Squire, Vivi spared only the time to double-check the knot on Mr. Pepper's blindfold and remind Chloe that Dulcie was to be kept out of his sight at all costs. She furrowed her brow, concentrating on the little kite-string of command tethering her single Deadbeat. Clothes. She needed Kay's clothes. She pictured the Pepper residence, sending the little guy flying after her command. She hoped that was how it worked.

She tugged on Kay's arm, but Kay was fast asleep and deadweight.

"Vivi."

Vivi glanced up to see Mrs. Pepper. By her empty arms, Lewis had already come in ahead of her for Aji's body. She hesitated, pretty sure what Teles was going to offer. But what could it hurt? Teles had never shown any murderous intentions toward Kay.

"Yeah. I could use a hand." Vivi stepped back, and Teles scooped up Kay in her arms. Vivi led her out and down the hall. There were a couple sets of showers in the facility and Dib had printed off a map directing her to one. Once there, Teles sliced the toga off of Kay with her fingertips and held her under the warm water, heedless of her own clothes.

Kay's eyelids fluttered open, those blue eyes vacant as her head twitched back and forth on her neck. Vivi pumped soap onto her hand and transferred it to over to Teles' outstretched palm, then gathered more and began working it through Kay's hair as Teles washed her daughter's body.

"Lost," Kay whispered, then cried louder with a sob, "Lost!"

Teles did not answer her, only continued bathing Kay as she cried like a child abandoned in a store. Vivi rinsed the last of the suds from Kay's hair and grabbed a towel from the wall, helping pat Kay dry. At that moment, several alarms flared in succession down the hall as the Deadbeat flew in, dropping a bundle at Vivi's feet.

"Good job!" Vivi fist-pumped, pulling apart a set of underthings, pants, and a shirt. "Gonna have to get those adjusted so Dib doesn't have a heart attack every time you run errands."

Kay refused to stand, so Teles held her upright as Vivi carefully dressed her. Once she was dressed, Teles collected her back into her arms, her eyes hidden by her bangs. "Take us back to Arthur."

Vivi led the way once again, to the room Dib had marked off for the two of them. It was more of a cell than a room, but Dib had promised better furnishings soon. For now it held two thickly blanketed cots and two folding chairs. Squire sat in one of the folding chairs, his knuckles white on the edge of his seat.

Kay squirmed in Teles' arms, dropping out of her mother's grasp and bolting over to Arthur. Her cries subsided as he wrapped his arm around her, and a strained breath shuddered out of him.

He wasn't much different from earlier, though he smelled a good deal better. Looked a little more like the Squire she knew, but the silver in his hair-nearly a full head of gray-and the lines in his face frightened Vivi more than she could say. The mind could recover, she could testify to that, but it would be no good to Squire if his body quit on him before he could heal.

For a moment, he met her eyes. She could see him focusing, making an effort, a ring of green circling the brown center of each eye.

"Thank. You." The rasp was hardly human, but she heard it loud and clear before he lapsed back into his earlier blank stare, stroking Kay's hair as she slowly calmed under his touch.

Vivi traded stares with Mystery. The Shiker would never thank anyone, and Arthur couldn't speak. What was happening to him in there?

…...

 **Note:** Yay for canon info coming out... except Vivi's last name is obviously not Kimura according to what we now have as established canon... plus she has a family and isn't an orphan... well, you know the drill. This fic was begun before I had any of that info, therefore I gotta go with what I already established. Chapter title is excerpted from The Best is Yet To Come by Sheppard.


	4. Riding Off to Dreamland

"When this is over I'll either be the most famous paranormal researcher, or the drunkest one," Dib muttered, massaging his temples. "Curses. Gods and goddesses. There's a unicorn in my basement for the love of-"

"For someone so set on getting proof of the paranormal you're thrown for a loop as soon as it sits down with you. What's the matter, can't handle the heat?" Lewis jabbed.

"Could you?" Dib retorted. "Look, pal, the researcher side of me is thrilled. I'm sitting on a gold mine. That is, if I'm not sitting on a time bomb. If I get your story from beginning-which starts with Mrs. Pepper and Demeter-and take it all the way to the conclusion of Shiker remnants within your pal Arthur, we could each be plunged into a wish-we'd-never-been-born level of hell if the Arthur side of him doesn't win out. No pressure."

"But that won't happen." Lance lifted his face from his hands, glaring at Dib. "Artie's in there. I seen him. He said somethin' ta Vivi. We're gonna get 'im back."

"How do you know there's any of him left?" Mr. Pepper asked thinly, his hands folded in his lap. "He was a good kid, but according to Lewis I don't remember half my family because of him."

"That wasn't him!" Lance shouted. "Wasn't his fault he got dragged into yer family's crapheap! Or d'ye wanna go into yer daughter's arson record?"

Vivi swayed in her seat. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this up. Everyone else from the team got to get shuteye, but people out of the loop were demanding in on the loop. So, as Kay and Arthur passed out in their lab quarters and the rest of the team settled into Lewis' re-materialized mansion, she and Lewis had corralled Mr. Pepper, Lance, and Dib into the mansion foyer to fill them in on the missing pieces.

Lance, Mr. Pepper, and Dib were all running on decent sleep, and Lewis didn't need that kind of rest anymore, but Vivi wasn't sure of the last time she slept. She was, however, sure that the next time would be fairly soon and there wasn't much she could do to delay it. But she couldn't do that before she got them to their separate corners. The last thing they needed was a fight.

"Low blow, Lance," she scolded. "Mr. Pepper doesn't even remember her, and this situation was not his fault. Arthur volunteered for this mission, don't pin his decisions on Mr. Pepper. And Mr. Pepper, you owe a eel-minted muckton to Arthur for the family you have left. If you want to pick a fight, go talk to your wife. Dib." She turned to him. "I'm sorry. I really am. But I wasn't kidding when I said we were in over our heads. I think we can work this out, but we need some help. We need containment, your research and observational ability, and transition back. Yes, we are desperate. Yes, I am begging you not to throw us out."

Dib rubbed his chin, the candlelight throwing sharp shadows across his face. "Okay. What's your plan of attack?"

Vivi groaned. "We gotta do this now? I haven't slept in-"

"You can sleep when you're dead." Dib didn't even look at Lewis. "Which we could be if we don't stay a step ahead. You want my help, we work on a tight timetable, and the first thing is laying out at least the first steps of our plan."

The insides of Vivi's lids rubbed like sandpaper every time she opened her eyes. She tilted, Lewis catching her. She wasn't sure how much brainpower she had left and if she opened her mouth on the fraction of a brain she might ruin whatever assurances she had managed to get them from Dib.

"Gotta help me brain this, Lew," she mumbled. Louder, she said, "Need Squire back. Priority uno."

"She means Arthur," Lewis explained to Dib. "He's got a knack for figuring out the rules and loopholes of various situations we encounter. Plus, at the moment, he's the most dangerous member to have unhinged."

"What does his recovery hinge on?"

Vivi pursed her lips. "I don't really get the siren effect, I've been protected from it for the most part, but he keeps saying he's in sway to Kay. That means he has to obey her direct commands, but I think it means more for him. He's been head over heels for her a really-" she cut off, yawning widely. "-long time now, even before that. I think she'll be key to recovery. And Lance. Mechanic-y stuff and family aspect bla bla bla."

"Well that presents a problem already." Dib folded his arms. "We don't have Kay, not really. What does her recovery hinge on?"

"Fudgemallows if I know," Vivi mumbled, her head sinking onto Lewis' arm. "We weren't super close. Just close enough to say hi and trade small talk and tease Lew."

Lewis' arm tightened around her for a moment, and she allowed a moment of happiness at the memory that flashed so easily to mind. It was still faded, but clearer than some others.

"Well, you're her brother." Dib turned on Lewis. "What's likely to speed Kay's recovery?"

Lewis' eyes dropped. "I'm not sure. Not seeing me, for sure. I kind of pushed her to the edge, the Shiker just gave the last shove." He smoldered. "He's good at that."

"Right. And don't trust a word Arthur speaks aloud." Dib made a note. "Well, I don't know about you, but if I was smart enough to make my own prosthetic, which I am if I needed to, I would want access to the best tech I could get as soon as possible. That would be something to focus on for a while, distract him while we figure out how to reality-check Kay. I looked up his work at the university. Not bad at all, but they don't have the resources I do. When he wakes up tomorrow, I'll have in a load of new toys for him to work with, then he can sign what he really wants to say." Dib tapped his goggles. "I'll download a translator program for myself, I'm sure he and I will have some things to discuss and it would be nice to have shortcuts."

"Don't s'pose you have an extra one'a those?" Lance asked. "Never learned sign, never had to."

Dib nodded. "Done. Consider it," he said, enunciating each word emphatically, "My apology for this last week."

Lewis glared, but Dib ignored him. Vivi tried to stifle another yawn. Sighing, Dib relented. "I guess that's enough for tonight, it's a decent start. I'll have Kay and Arthur moved to a soundproof room tomorrow. And we'll hold that funeral the unicorn wants tomorrow night."

"She has a name, you know," Lewis rumbled.

"Yeah. I know. But I have to keep saying 'the unicorn' so the insanity of this situation stays sharp in my mind."

"Excuse me?"

Vivi lifted her head, glancing around. She couldn't see the speaker, but it sounded like-

"Dulcie?" Lewis straightened, alarmed. "Don't come out here, Dad doesn't have a blindfold!"

Mr. Pepper clapped his hands over his eyes, mumbling, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Dulcie slipped out from behind the stairs, reaching up wrapping her arms around Mr. Pepper's waist. Vivi held her breath.

"It's okay Daddy. I'll talk to you from around corners until you get better. I'll tell you stories about what we used to do. It'll be okay."

Mr. Pepper's lip quivered. Dulcie squeezed him once more before turning and making her way toward Dib.

"Hi, I'm Dulcie." She stuck her hand out.

Dib hesitated a moment before taking her hand and shaking it.

"It's ok, I haven't fledged yet. I can't hurt you." She smiled, and the corner of Dib's mouth lifted. "Can I have a pot and some dirt?"

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Um..."

"Sorry, but people are supposed to ask you for the things they need, and I need this. It's very important."

Dib tilted his head to the side. "Why is it so important?"

"Because I'm going to be very bored down here with nothing to do and you want to keep me out of your way." She grinned up at him. "So can I have a pot and some dirt?"

Lewis snorted and Vivi covered her mouth, coughing.

Dib sighed, making a note on his pad. "Sending Torque up to fill a mop bucket full of dirt for you. Good enough?"

Dulcie beamed. "Thanks! Come visit me and I'll tell you all about the Cage, okay?"

Dib shook his head, pocketing the datapad. "Is your family and team just that good at weaseling what they want out of a guy? Get outta here." But the corner of his mouth rose. "Way past mortal bedtimes around here. We regroup tomorrow."

…..

Dulcie didn't want to talk about the Cage. She never wanted to think about that terrible place ever again. She'd closed her eyes for just a few minutes in the bookstore and found her dreams were already no refuge from the memories.

But she needed that bucket and she'd promise Dib any horrible terrible memory he wanted to hear to get it.

She smiled when the bulky looking guy rolled in the mop bucket full of dry-as-dust earth, looking for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere but inside a ghost mansion, then shut the door on him. Dragging it next to the plush, king-size bed, she began digging a hole in the middle.

"Do you really think it will work, Dulcie-chan?" Vivi poked her nose over the edge of the bed where she lay, legs folded under her. "We're not in the other world anymore."

Dulcie kept digging. "Persephone said. Said it wouldn't be the same, but it would help for a while." She fished in her pocket and pulled out the mashed, pulpy sections of a tomato. "It's gotta do something."

No way was she just going to sit around. Sitting around would have gotten her ripped apart in the Cage. If Lewis hadn't kept her moving and kept her safe, she would have had a lot worse to live with than a few nightmares. If Dad hadn't sent her away from Mom, Arthur might not have had time to figure out how to help her. Now Arthur was stuck, and telling him his name wasn't helpful anymore. Not from her, anyway. Maybe she couldn't call him back like Kay could, but she could do what Persephone told her to.

Dropping the remains of the tomato in the hole, she covered it up and patted it down. "Don't worry, Arthur. We all got you. Just wait a little more."

Chloe yawned, laying her muzzle down on the covers. "Aren't you even a little tired? You were fast asleep earlier."

Dulcie hesitated. She was tired, but she didn't want to go back to the nightmares.

"If not, could you at least keep me company?" Chloe mumbled, her eyelids drifting shut. "Vivi-chan is busy and so is that baka dog and I'm lonely already."

Dulcie poured her glass of water over the dirt and nodded, crawling up next to Chloe and nestling by her forelegs. Chloe was warm and soft and smelled like sweet grass, but also big and strong like Lewis. Everything felt safer when she was with one of them.

Chloe curled one foreleg back around her, already half asleep. Dulcie's eyelids drooped as well, and she wondered if maybe she wouldn't have nightmares if Chloe was sleeping too. Chloe hadn't slept at the same time as Dulcie since before Demeter came. Dulcie's eyes closed. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to try again.

…..

"Hello Dulcie. It's been a while. I'm so glad you're safe."

Dulcie felt something tugging on her hair and glanced up to see Chloe nibbling on her curls, a playful gleam in her eyes. Dulcie broke into a smile as the grassy paddock materialized around them.

"You're really different here," Dulcie giggled, pulling free. "Does the dream you like animes as much as the awake you?"

"Of course. I'm the same person, it's just when I'm awake I don't remember as much." Her tail swished. "Lewis is right. It's better this way. Even if it's a little more annoying for my friends. Do let them know I appreciate their patience, please."

Dulcie glanced down. Small golden balls rolled around their feet, just as before, each with different images inside.

Chloe nudged her. "Hey I have an idea, I was hoping you could help. Up until now I've only ever been able to look at the dreams, and me being nearby sometimes makes the dream different. But I've never been able to do what you did last time. You got inside Arthur's dream and changed something directly. A lot of people are having hard dreams, Dulcie. Would you work with me? I want to give them better dreams."

Dulcie's smile widened. "You've already made mine better. Where do we start?"

Chloe nosed over the golden balls. "The ones that are darker need more help."

Dulcie reached for one, but withdrew her hand just as quickly. The sound of her own crying wafted from that one. "No. I don't want to go in her dreams. I don't want to see her ever again."

She felt Chloe's eyes on her, but she didn't meet them. Instead she turned to another ball, one murky and brown. "Let's start here. Maybe we can help Daddy some."

…..

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from All The Pretty Little Ponies by Kenny Loggins.


	5. Giving Up on Doing This Alone

Lewis only allowed himself two hours with Vivi. She hadn't even protested when he picked her up, cradling her against his chest. She was asleep by the time he was halfway up the stairs. While he wanted to offer her the most lavish quarters he could dream up, he knew the sight of her own room would offer more stability when she woke.

He sat there in the replica of her apartment-their apartment-bedroom, unwilling to let go. She'd asked for his help, his input. She'd seemed genuinely glad to see him again. Had voluntarily taken his hand a few times. Recounting even a fragment of her copied-over memories was more than he could have hoped for.

And she still had the ring box in her pocket.

But everyone would be starved for something more than pizza when they got up, so he tucked her under the covers, smoothed back her bangs and slipped out. He found Dib inspecting a faucet in his mansion's kitchen, sticking a probe into the running water.

"You do realize this isn't water? Or do you?" There was a manic grin on Dib's face as he inspected the probe. "Maybe you don't even know what you're doing, but this is amazing. You're simulating the effects of water without actually having any H2O present. Someone could drink this and still be thirsty because it's not really there, but bathe in it? Wash something? Viola, it's clean! Exhibit A." He held up a long black rubber glove. "No more smudges! I could probably spend ten years on just your mansion."

"I thought you would be asleep."

"Sleep is for mortals." Dib rolled back his sleeve, revealing several darker colored swatches stuck to his skin. "Or for people who don't have the Membrane patented Awake Patch. I think I'm on day three."

Arthur would probably like him, Lewis decided. If they ever got Arthur back. "Well, since you're still up, you've noticed that I can make a kitchen but I can't make food and drink." Lewis opened his hand and a scroll of paper unfolded from it, words appearing line by line as it unrolled. "I'll be needing a lot of food."

Dib seized the list, gaping. "Manifestation of physical objects at will. No, not quite." He crinkled the paper, inspecting it. "Probably not actual paper, just fooling my senses about it, but it gets the job done, like the water. What you want to happen is what happens, the 'how' is incidental. Ah, yes. I can get all this. Don't suppose I get to put in a meal request?"

"Do you have any allergies?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then you'll love whatever I make. Get out of my kitchen."

Dib scowled, slinking out with the list and his probe. Lewis felt a little sorry, but he wasn't interested in getting too familiar with Dib.

A throat cleared behind him, and Lewis turned, adopting an irritated glare. Dib had paused at the doorway, his eager demeanor replaced with something more somber. "So. Look. Just so you know, I'm going to get going on that autopsy. The sooner I can submit the official report, the sooner I can start getting people off your backs."

Lewis froze, unexpectedly cold. Of course, this was what had to happen. They'd discussed this. He didn't have to like it, but it had to happen. It wasn't like it was going to hurt Aji, either. She was gone.

Dead.

"It's going to be a while before we get the food back." Lewis straightened his ascot. "I'm... I'm coming with you."

Dib tensed. "How good of an idea is this? I was just telling you as a courtesy."

"Yeah, and someone who was actually a part of the situation should be there."

"You know that's not true. You don't have to be there."

"She was my sister, and nobody else cares about her or her remains right now, and somebody who does should be there!" Lewis flared, practically daring Dib to cross him.

Dib watched him carefully, and Lewis wished he could see Dib's eyes. The goggles threw him off, he could never tell for sure what Dib was thinking.

"Lewis. Real talk. I'm a big brother, it would kill me to stand over someone pulling my little sister's body apart. And I'm not nearly as close with mine as you seem to have been with yours."

Lewis stared down at his hands for a moment before curling his fingers in and answering, "Then it's a good thing I'm already dead. If you're worried about me interfering, I understand the necessity of what you're doing. Just keep your enthusiasm to yourself. Let's go."

…...

 _You do not open your eyes right away, savoring the last few moments of sleep fleeing your mind. They were full, but not of darkness and fear. In fact, if you didn't know better, you thought you heard her voice, strong and clear in the sunrise hours over the sea._

 _She shifts in your arms, sighing. It was not real, there is no sea here. Even the traces of salt smell fade from her, now. No wonder she always smelled of the ocean, where else could she release her song in safety?_

 _You test the slip in your mind. You know you are too blended. You do not want this, neither of you, but there is still too much exhaustion to struggle. No, for now you are some strange amalgam of yourselves. You suppose, under the circumstances, you will have to accept this for now. Fighting it will only prolong recovery, if recovery is possible._

 _You open your eyes, first checking to be sure your other senses were correct. They were, she is still there, asleep on you. Someone has pulled a blanket over you both. Your eyes shift to the only other person in the room._

 _Pack. He is Pack to you, both parts of you. You watch each other, wary, though he makes no move, seated on the floor as he is. Cross-legged, a man. He only does that to set some human at ease, who needs to be set at ease?_

 _Stop asking questions. We do not need to ask, we do not want to ask, we only want to rest, gods. No more questions._

 _"A man is coming in here soon." The one who is Pack breaks the silence. "You met him yesterday. His name is Lance."_

 _Desperation and oil and anger from yesterday. Yes. We do not want to be near him._

 _"He has had time to calm down and he has a gift for you. I believe you have noticed you have only one arm."_

 _You offer the most sardonic, condescending look you can muster. Does he think you are that stupid?_

 _He lifts his shoulders and lowers them. "I deserved that. But it is hard to tell what you are aware of right now."_

 _This is, you concede, a fair point. You are not even sure what you are and are not aware of._

 _"So, our host is delivering tools and equipment to Lance. Very soon, Lance will be in to lead you and Kay to a new room where you will have everything you need to construct another prosthetic."_

 _Your pulse quickens. You test this feeling, cautious. Is it a want? It is a want. It is a something to do, a something to focus on, something you do not need to ask any questions about. You know this backwards and forwards, you have built it so many times already. It is a safe thing to want._

 _And if the Lance is calm and not desperate, you suppose he does not present a danger either. You allow your head to dip in a bare nod._

 _She is coming awake as well. Calm, calmer than yesterday. You move slowly, raising yourself and her up. As slow as you take it, she does not become anxious. She scans the corners of the room, passing straight over Mystery. You sigh, and it comes out cracked. You wish she would speak to you. Even more, you wish she would sing to you. It is not a safe want, but then it is more of a need anyway. Not all needs are safe. They just are._

 _The door opens. Lance walks in, and she cringes. You brace her, nuzzling her cheek. Calm. Safe. She remains wary._

 _"Mornin' Artie." The voice is gruff but no longer desperate. "Got a real spread fer ya, don't even know what half the stuff is, but got enough t'make ya ten arms over there. Whaddaya say? Come with?"_

 _You keep your eyes on him, rising slowly and pulling her up with you. She follows your every move, half wrapped around you and you shuffle awkwardly after Lance, the pack member a silent shadow._

 _The door frame you pass through is easily twice as thick as any you've seen and the door itself is coated with foam all the way to every edge. It makes a sucking noise when it closes. There is a proper bed, three folding chairs, plenty of light, and a work desk._

 _You release her long enough to run your hand over the tools, something lighter filling your lungs. They are not yours, but they are all familiar. And the materials are laid out along the desk and a nearby shelving unit-those are not all familiar. All are far higher grade quality than you are used to working with, and your fingertips tingle._

 _Is that possibly a moment of excitement?_

 _It is gone in a flash, but it was there. This is no longer a want, this is a need. You sit down in a chair, reconstructing the last prosthetic's blueprint in your mind. You will need one very basic prosthetic just to work on further ones. A day? Two at most, then you can really get creative._

 _She immediately takes a seat next to you, uncomfortably close._

 _Since when was her presence uncomfortable?_

 _You stand, shifting your seat to the other side of her so that she is on the side where you are missing an arm. You will need free space to use the one arm you have, that is why. She will be no trouble. It is good to have her watching. Slightly familiar? You are not sure right now._

 _The door opens and closes. You are alone with her and your tools._

 _You wish she would sing._

 _You begin._

… _..._

 **Note:** You know those blocks of time when I flail about "I can't write anything whyyy?" I think my brain is trying to make up for it with a round of Writerrhea. Actually having trouble sleeping because my brain keeps churning on plot. And this is the RECOVERY fic, you know, the relaxing one? Hah. Chapter title excerpted from Be My Escape by Reliant K.


	6. Gain Some Self Control

**Note:** So I started this one off rated "T" but silly me I can't seem to keep a fic below the "M" rating anymore. Be warned. Autopsy ahead. Unending thanks to FlowerOfRegret on AO3 who loaned me their knowledge as a student of this topic! Chapter title excerpted from Stay With Me by Sam Smith.

…..

Lewis had not been prepared. He'd seen Aji fall lifeless from Hades' grip, but he had been much more focused on the scarlet hawk emerging from her mouth. Now, as Dib laid the slick black morgue bag on the table and unzipped it, Lewis flickered wildly. Livid purple-red blotches covered nearly all her neck-that is, the parts not torn open. The discoloration spread down to her collarbone and up around her cheeks, her tongue protruding in a last gasp, fingers hooked with talons half-emerged.

"Sorry," Dib said quietly. "Usually it's not so dramatic, but I'm guessing the gods of the underworld weren't so concerned with making her body look peaceful. You can still go, I promise I'll be respectful."

"I'm not leaving her alone!" Lewis said sharply. "I'll be fine."

Shaking his head, Dib unzipped the rest of the bag. He had already traded his trenchcoat for scrubs and a long white gown. His face was barely visible with a mask and his goggles and for a moment Lewis was distracted with trying to discern the rather ridiculously long white lump protruding from Dib's head. Eventually he realized Dib had somehow found or commissioned a type of hair net large enough to accommodate him. Dib removed Aji's clothing with a pair of shears, dropping the rags piece by piece into a large black trash bag.

"Computer, I want photographs every twenty seconds."

A digitized voice responded from a nearby wall panel. **CONFIRMED.**

But the second Dib pulled out the scalpel, Lewis found himself back in his locket, surrounded by the sound of Dulcie's pulse-soft and slow-and her sleepy breaths.

Cursing himself, he exited the locket, manifesting with care and retracing the path Dib had first led him down. Dib didn't even look up when Lewis phased back through the locked door, intent on his work.

"I'm sorry for all your losses," Dib said, and Lewis believed he really was.

Incisions had been made clavicle to sternum on each side and drawn in a straight line all the way down her torso. One line had been cut carefully from the base of her throat to her chin. "If you want to keep your composure, at least look away for this part. I'll tell you when it's okay."

Lewis turned around, bracing his hands against the wall and focusing on how still he could hold himself. The sound of a bone saw whirring behind him made him wish he could still vomit. Some forms of nausea, it seemed, had no connection to the ownership of guts.

"Okay. She's opened up now."

Lewis fervently envied the living their tiny bracing motions. Swallowing. Taking a breath. Even the tensing of muscles was not something he had at his command anymore, only the appearance of these things. So he turned and received the full impact of the scene, his sister's body held open with clamps as Dib gaged him warily.

Lewis managed a nod, and Dib proceeded, reaching into the cavity. "Computer, note. Inspecting trachea and lungs first. Cause of death most likely to be found there. Witness records say subject was discovered in the wilderness this way. Evidence collected off the body indicates attack from a wild animal." Dib glanced up. "Off the record. One of your teammates will be happy to provide me with animal hair for evidence of my claim, I assume?"

Lewis extended a hand stiffly. Purple smoke coalesced into a bristle brush, covered with milkwhite hairs. "Chloe's loose hairs. They could chase their tails for decades and never figure out the source."

"Returning to the record." Dib reached into the chest cavity. "Public record. Fluid in the lungs. Coloration suggests blood. Throat torn, trachea punctured. Cause of death: secondary asphyxia. Private record. Lungs take up far more of the chest cavity than typical human lungs. Computer, close-up photos of the lungs. Confirm abnormal size."

 **Scanning forensic databases. Confirm. Lung capacity 50% greater.**

Dib removed the lungs, setting them in a clear bag full of viscous liquid and setting it in a cooler. "Return to public record. Livor mortis on neck and face indicate an attack to the throat. Unusual, but not unheard of. Witnesses found her within moments of death, must have frightened off the animal because there is no further mauling to the body."

So casual. So clinical. Lewis kept his hands clasped tightly behind his back, willing the flames burning inside him to stay there.

Dib spared one glance up, hard creases forming around the goggles. "Yeah, okay, I see those there. Could you just not roast me for getting your family out of the mess they made? That would be great." He glared savagely down at his work. "Computer, strike that from the record. And this too: just get out of here. It's a bad idea for you to be here, and now I have to do further private record work to establish some basic anatomy for a siren. If I don't build a proper framework of information I won't be able to help your father or your friend. So just leave."

Lewis backed out through the wall, tearing a flame-lit path down the hall to the storage vault where he'd left the mansion.

…..

Vivi's eyes drifted open lazily, the last few snatches of some anime dream slipping off. Certainly not her usual, but then all types of usual had been shelved indefinitely. Which is exactly why seeing her own ceiling above her was so suspicious, as was feeling her own sheets.

Right. Lewis' mansion. The mansion that shaped itself to his will. Mold-a-Manse. She allowed herself a little smile, curling her legs. He probably wanted her to feel safe waking up in familiar settings. She owed the flaming lunkhead a kiss, she supposed, for the sweet gesture. Not that she had ever had trouble doing that before. She allowed a few of those memories to play through her mind. She still didn't feel much when they came to her, but she wasn't repulsed and angry thinking about them either.

Abruptly she became aware of something large nearby, and she flipped over, startled. Lewis sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her, his hair licking out in all directions. Bad sign.

"Hey," she murmured. "Morning. What's the fuel for today's hairdo?"

He hunched forward, and she slid out from the covers immediately, sitting next to him. "Hey. Don't lock me out now. Look at me. C'mon."

He wouldn't. Alarm colored her tone as she grabbed his sleeve. "Lew, did something happen?"

"No. I'm sorry." He covered her hand with his. "I... nothing happened. Nothing bad. I..."

Subdued, she waited for him to finish. If there wasn't an emergency, she could make time for him to work his way to words.

"... I... watched... her autopsy."

Vivi blinked for a moment, then groaned, "You oversalted sack of boulders, what were you thinking? Don't you have enough bad memories to carry?" She brought her legs up and rose on her knees, wrapping her arms around his neck hole.

His arms folded around her, his skull shuddering. "I couldn't leave her alone," he said, miserably. "But I couldn't stay and watch him keep doing it. I abandoned her. Like everyone else did."

Vivi squeezed tightly. "Of all people, Lew, you should know she's not there anymore."

He doubled over her, clutching like a child and keening. Of course he knew, Vivi scolded herself. No need to twist the knife. She ran her hand over his hair carefully. It was warm, not burning, and closer to thick fog through her fingers.

A thought seized her, and before she could talk herself out of it she whispered, "Lewis. You need to grieve. You haven't gotten to mourn anything, and now you can't do it properly."

He rocked, and her alarm mounted as the keen mounted in intensity. He was fit to lose it any moment now. They had seen enough cases with wailing, teeth-gnashing spectres who wished they could cry themselves to release. She didn't want that for him. The trigger would be unpleasant, but until they figured out how his kind of possession worked...

"Lew. I want you to think really hard about when I fell." His grip tightened, and she sucked in a breath to brace against his arms. "I fell and I almost died. I almost hit those spikes and-"

This time she was aware. His form dissipated and she could feel his presence filling her chest, the weight of recently acquired memories tripling and new memories careening through her head. She dropped to the bedspread, her mouth stretched in an anguished cry. Instantly the walls of the room thickened to catch all sound, and Vivi wrapped herself up in the quilt as tears began to pour down her face.

For a moment she was swept back by the flood of emotions. But she allowed it to tumble her over and over, then wash past her. Carefully, she turned her thoughts away from her near-death. That was not what Lewis needed to grieve, after all she was still alive. And while she had grieved his death, he had not grieved his own. And she could feel the surges of anger he continued to try and hold back tying back to the moment of his demise. So she brought to mind the memory she wished never to see again; Lewis, impaled on a spike, unable to even draw a last breath.

And she screamed, a wave of flame rolling out from her and engulfing the room. Paint boiled off the walls and photographs blazed to crisps in their frames, the bedspread its own inferno reaching up to the ceiling with Vivi in the center.

Yet she did not burn. The scream continued, with his rage ripping back through every injustice done to him that had led to that moment, and it seemed to Vivi that she moved under someone else's instructions, hearing Mrs. Pepper's voice in her head. That the person she most trusted in life suddenly hated her enough to commit murder. That the parents who should have protected her willingly handed her over to a fate worse than death. That her new family should have known better, known better, KNOWN better! That there was nothing she could do to save herself from being stripped of everything that made her Vivi, the joys and fears and anger and any future, all would be devoured by a monster that would make anything under the bed wet itself. That she had been beaten, mangled, and violated by someone she thought understood, that had these same fears as her.

 _Time bomb_ sounded faintly in her mind. It was too much, too great. What had she been thinking? In this state she would go off with him and then what would happen? A house full of guests in a reactive building would be crushed.

No. She was not the time bomb here, he was. And she had to let him go off while keeping their surroundings intact. The flaming room was fine as long as she confined it. She pictured the walls growing even thicker, lining themselves with non-flammable materials. And it was so.

She wasn't sure how long she screamed, alternately refreshing the inferno and clawing at the ash-heap she now sat in. But eventually the screams died away, leaving her lying limp in the ashes. She didn't waste more than a second wondering why her air remained breathable. That was a question for Squire, or maybe Dib. Instead, she reached up and cupped her own face.

"You died. And you were deeply, deeply missed." The buoyant Mr. Pepper, whose smile had vanished overnight. Dulcie dressed in his clothes, dragging his shirtsleeves down the hall because they were too long. Aji, a pale concentration of rage and shock whenever Vivi saw her. Kay handing out funeral bulletins, barely able to look Vivi in the eye. Even Mrs. Pepper and the quiet exhaustion in her drawn features. Each image was brought to mind, deliberately. Lewis needed to know how much he was missed. How badly he was needed.

And Lewis turned, as she thought he would, to the broken pieces of his family. Madness. Death. Shattered innocence. A forgotten life. And endless burdens. And the tears boiled down her cheeks because this was his family. For a few years he had known happiness and belonging with them. And he hadn't been able to save Aji, and he had attacked Kay.

"I was one of them," he sobbed. "They let me be one of them. And I was happy. And look what happened… what I did..."

Love. So much love for them. Fissures of hurt and anger ran through it, but even those had begun to close.

"They need you. More than ever, Lew. You're going to be able to get a handle on them more than I ever will, they're your family. It's going to be slow going, but you can do this. And I'm sure you can find a way back to Kay, too."

She could barely breathe for the tears, and she'd stopped trying to wipe her face free of snot five minutes in. Slowly, the ashes faded away and her room began to recompose. The bed rose up from under her and the blanket wrapped her up, pushing her down.

"I spent your energy again," he sighed. "And how are we going to come apart this time?"

Vivi smiled weakly. "S'okay. You can make it up to me with a great meal. But later. And we can figure out how you leave later too." She nestled under the covers. "Stay with me a while. I missed you."

…..

As Lewis rested with Vivi, Mr. Pepper crept from his room. Lance's snores could wake the dead, there would be no sleep for him with that man unconscious. He wandered the halls, poking his head into room after room.

His search was eventually rewarded by the discovery of a fully outfitted industrial kitchen, gleaming with chrome and stainless steel. The center countertop overflowed with hastily dropped groceries, the ingredients for a fabulous feast.

He drifted toward the ingredients, handling them each to check quality, a hearty smile on his face for the first time in days.

Something to do. Something he knew without question or qualm. There would, indeed, be a feast by evening.


	7. Please Don't Make Any Sudden Moves

_You stare at Vivi and Lewis together. Their brains must be twice as scrambled as yours if they seriously think you are fit to attend that silly foal's unnecessary funeral. Even if you were fit, that she wants you there at all is suspect of rubbing everything in your face; that she is free and has survived, and you are bound for life._

 _You turn away from them. As Lewis is making a commendable effort to conceal his presence-there is no ethereal pink glow to Vivi's hair-you do not begrudge their presence. Yet. But this request to attend is absurd and they should know it._

 _You shake your head once and heat in the room rises slightly. You bare teeth in warning. Kay is asleep on the cot for now, but you will not have her wake and start screaming just because Lewis can't control his temper._

 _"C'mon, Squire, it'll be good for you to get out of this room anyway. For both of you."_

 _But it won't be. Not in this setting, with the foal glaring at you the entire time. There is a small twinge, you owe her at least some token. Words are still hard, you don't want to try. They hurt. You grab a pen and scribble on a piece of scrap._ **Send my apologies. It's not a good idea.**

 _Vivi sighs heavily, but the temperature cools again. They accept this because only Arthur would write them a message. It would be too much effort to explain how muddled we are, and that it doesn't matter who speaks and who writes._

 _Vivi turns to Mystery, concern bleeding off him. He has some sense of the wrongness about us but is not able to put words to it either. He is invited as well, though much more strongly than we are. It seems the foal demands that he be there, whereas you were merely requested._

 _"Only if Lance is on watch," he concedes. "And keep your cell phone handy, Vivi. One hint of trouble and I can be down here in a few moments."_

 _There won't be trouble, idiot, we wish we could say. We haven't the strength to catch fire, much less shift forms or devour a soul._

 _"I'm sure that won't be a problem," she assures him. "We'll send him back on the way out."_

 _Reluctant Mystery leaves, casting anxious glances back the whole time. It must be nice to have enough stored emotion to burn on wasteful gestures like that._

 _"Hey, Squire. That arm is looking good." Vivi gestures to the work in front of you. "Hope I'll get to talk properly with you soon."_

 _You don't bother with a sigh. She wouldn't know a piece of crap if it fell apart in her hands. The prosthetic you are almost finished with will not bear more weight than the tools it will take you to build a better one and has a response time far too long for your liking. It only exists to help you build the next one, itself a bare step above nothing._

 _The door shuts, and you have a rare moment alone. You leave your work desk and cross to the cot, kneeling silently beside it. She is awake now. You suppose it is too much to ask that the noise of people entering and exiting be muffled for her sake. The laws of reality only bend so far._

 _Her eyes are not roaming and your breath catches as she reaches up a hand, tracing your face from the end of your brow down to your chin. Has she come back? You don't dare move and break the spell. There doesn't seem to be recognition in those blue eyes, but something near it. Less animal, more human, and her fingers retrace the route back up your face like the route on a map._

 _The door opens and immediately the eyes are flat. Glassy. Vacantly staring at the far corner. You turn, ready to tear the intruder apart for the despair that crowds air from your lungs._

 _"Just me, Artie." The Lance. He is in the doorway. You must look a fright, he does not usually pause like that._

 _It is not his fault. You sink back into the chair at your desk, unable to look at Kay's eyes. You know they are checking the upper corners of the room, each one in turn. The only other thing she will turn her eyes to is your work, and that for only a short time. You drop your forehead to the desk. You aren't sure how long you can manage like this._

 _The question sparks just enough curiosity for you to calculate the answer as the Lance takes a breath to speak. You knew the number of bones in your body the moment you were made into a puppet, it is child's play to extend that search to the state of your nervous system. Organs. Neural network. The structure, not number, of your bones._

 _A short cry escapes you. No wonder the faces all around you are grieved when they see you. In this state you would have ten years at absolute most before your body crumbles out from under you. Already the organs strain and the tissues moan and the brain screams from the unending input._

 _It was not supposed to be like this._

" _Oh buck up, Artie. Sure, it's a piece-a-crap, but you were kind of outta it today."_

 _Startled, you glance back up. The Lance is still there, now holding the prosthetic you made and testing the joints. You avert your eyes from his face, studying the junky arm he inspects. His eyes are too heavy with sadness, you can't take it. There are names and bits of prior connection you can manage holding for Vivi and Lewis and even Mystery, but this one. The Lance is important, you know that, and maybe that is why you are not ready to connect to that yet. For now, his name is all you can hold._

 _But he knows a terrible prosthetic when he sees one. You shrug one shoulder, but are slightly pleased that he knows you are capable of better._

 _"I mean, wow. No amount'a dog-ate-my-homework would cover yer arse if ye turned this in as a project. C'mon." He sets it down and pulls out a chair. "How 'bout you show me somethin' that doesn't look like it was crapped out by B9."_

 _You may not be able to look The Lance in the eyes for now, but this is a kind of familiar that is comforting, not smothering. You take the piece-of-crap and hook it up to the connection implant in your shoulder, wincing at the shock that jolts you. Maybe The Lance will be helpful, if you can direct him in silence. Four hands are better than one..._

…..

Flour. Baking powder. Salt. _Whisk whisk whisk_ ed eggs. Half of the dishes Timothy had planned for the feast were nonsensical for dinnertime, but he didn't care. Somebody would want waffles, so by gods he was going to serve waffles and seared salmon and any other dish that popped into his head.

Vivi had poked her head in once, unusually startled-looking to see him in the kitchen. Surely him being a chef hadn't changed, even during the period of time he couldn't remember. Of course, he didn't recall her eyes switching color when she was surprised, so who knew what had changed.

She'd stammered her way through letting him know there was going to be a funeral aboveground for her boss, Duet, then left. Then it was just him and the _snicksnicksnick_ of a knife against the cutting board and a whisk scraping the last of the egg into what was shaping up to be a fine bowl of waffle batter.

Here his hands were steady and his mind at ease. Here he was master of every cupboard, utensil, and ingredient in sight, and that evening would fill with sighs of satisfaction. Perhaps he would discuss taking shifts with Lewis. A quick look at the lab roster, courtesy of the doctor, confirmed he would need at least a sous-chef. Either that or some of those wakefulness patches Dr. Membrane had all along his arm, though Timothy wasn't interested in the accompanying twitches Dr. Membrane was developing. He had enough problems with his muscles and memory without adding-

Milk. A dark brown hand wrapped around the plastic handle of the jug, offering it to him. He didn't dare lift his eyes higher. That hand had a gold ring on the second to last finger. Kay had no such ring.

What did she want from him? Why was she here? He didn't know her, not really. He only knew stories, that she looked human but wasn't human. That she had his will bent to hers if she so much as opened her mouth. That they had three daughters together and adopted a son, though two of the daughters were nothing but blank spaces in his mind. That she tried to kill one of those, and enlisted him to that cause against his will. What could she possibly want from him now?

The plastic handle cracked, milk bleeding through and streaming over her knuckles, dripping to the floor. Some of those things must have been the out-loud things, he sighed. One more mess he couldn't clean up. She shouldn't be here. She should just leave.

And yet he glanced up. Her eyes fixed firmly on the milk jug in her hand. She had wrapped a sheet around her hair obscuring her hair and there was a torn strip of cloth wrapped twice around the lower half of her face, knotted tightly behind her head.

A gag. Why had she gagged herself?

She kept her eyes from his, still holding out the dripping milk.

She was to be pitied, but not trusted. He took the milk, poured it into a measuring cup, and drank down a mouthful. He counted off seconds in his mind, though a quick brush of his hand over his mouth told him he was counting out loud. One minute. Two. Three. Four. Five. No ill effects. He refilled the measuring cup and mixed it into the waffle batter.

He couldn't trust her to cook with him. He would have to sample every dish before it left to make sure it wasn't poisoning anyone. She shouldn't be anywhere near the kitchen. No, he couldn't accept her help and he didn't want to.

"Just leave," he tried to say. But when he looked up, he was already alone.

…..

Dib stripped his gear, scrubbing his hands in the sink. Half of Aji was in jars and bags awaiting further study and the rest he had spent several hours re-configuring so that there was some semblance of dignity for her corpse, which now rested in a morgue drawer. He already had several theories he wanted to test, but it wouldn't do him any good to butterfinger a test tube or slice his own fingers trying to cut open the lungs for examination. Four days was the max he could make it on the patches, no matter how exciting the discoveries, and it was high time to hit the sack.

He slid the door open and paused, adrenaline slamming into his exhaustion hard enough to produce jitters. Mrs. Pepper stood there, one hand gripping the other. She didn't look dangerous, but he'd personally overseen tests on Mr. Pepper and knew what she was capable of. Not to mention the talons he now knew she had sheathed in hollowed-out fingerbones.

"Can I help you, Mrs. Pepper?" he asked, cautious.

"Do you remember the muzzle you put on me when I was last here?" she asked.

"Ah, yes." He cleared his throat. "I do, and I would like to say that-"

"I would like you to give me another just like it. And I want it locked on silent. And make sure it is not something that can be adjusted by anyone but yourself."

Dib tilted his head. He was much more used to hostile demands for complete liberty by antagonistic specimens. It was highly unusual for any being under examination to demand its own handicap. "Why?"

"I have to start somewhere, and it's the only place I can think of to start gaining their trust back."

"I'm not in this for the therapy, but having you running around with free use of your voice down here never struck me as a good idea. To be frank, I'd have one of those on Kay if I thought her guard dog would leave me both arms for my trouble. Soundproof room is the best compromise I've got." He ran a hand through his hair, then pulled a notepad from his pocket and scribbled on it. "I have to pass out for 24 hours. Flag down the next guy in a labcoat and give him this. He'll get you fitted. If I wake up and find out you weren't fitted, it will be compulsory. Understood?"

"Understood." She took the piece of paper. "Thank you. Also, you have my daughter's body?"

Dib tensed. "Depends on your definition of-"

"Please. I would like to see her."

"I'm not sure you do. I did what I could, but I was never trained to make corpses look nice."

"Please."

Dib lifted his goggles, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Stepping aside, he allowed Mrs. Pepper into the room. Pressing his thumb to the printlock on the drawer, he slid it open and gloved up, unzipping the bag to just below the chin. He'd managed to get Aji's mouth and eyes closed, which he counted a victory, even if her features were contorted in a nightmarish rictus.

Mrs. Pepper knelt by the drawer, drawing the bag back further from the face. Dib cleared his throat, ready to cite at least fifteen diseases she could pick up by not gloving and masking herself before touching the body, until her talons came out. He watched in silent fascination as Mrs. Pepper worked razor sharp talons slowly, almost tenderly, through the matted red curls.

"Water?" she asked, softly.

Dib grabbed a beaker, filling it at the sink and passing it to her. She dipped her fingers into the water and began working it through the crusted knots, clouding the water as she continued.

"The drawer will lock itself when you close it," Dib said, quietly. "So will the door. Rubbing alcohol is on the table, and scrub in hot water at the sink for at least five minutes up to the elbows." Turning on his heel, he left the room. There was nothing in there she could tamper with, and this moment was not for him to observe.

Tiredness was making him soft. He needed to sleep, then start collecting data off everything he could get his hands on. If he could just push his patch record to five days…

…...

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from Heathens by Twenty One Pilots.


	8. We Pick Ourselves Undone

_Sweat and cold and dark and the stench of two fears. So dark. Why is it so dark? Where are you? There is ground below your feet but you cannot see it. There are hands you move in front of you face, but you cannot see them._

 _Cherry blossoms drift past you, casting soft pink light as they swirl. You jerk aside, stumbling away from them. Pitch blackness is better than those. You will not be found. Not by Her._

Who is she?

 _Doesn't matter. Doesn't matter. Leave the petals behind, run anywhere but here._

But where is here?

 _Here is in flames, now, all around, pink and crawling up your legs, incinerating you piecemeal. There is no mercy, not for what you did. You are dragged to hands and knees, clawing your own flesh._

 _But the flames aren't pink now. Were they ever? You must be dreaming. Green flames? You stand, slow so that it doesn't change back, admiring the sickly color. You are wreathed in verdant fiery power. There's nothing She or anyone else can do to you, not with this power. All is well._

 _"All is well." Your own voice mocks you, and you are startled. Your lips have not moved. You press your fingers over them to be sure._

 _"All is well. Happily ever after."_

 _Two fears rise sharp within you. That is not you, but it sounds like you._

 _The green flames desert you, tracking away and coiling up the legs of… you. But not you. Not you because you are both here, so who is that, standing there looking like you?_

 _"Who is that?" He walks toward you and your feet will not move. "Who is that? Pitiful." He takes your face in his hands. Revulsion. Revulsion. But you cannot move anymore._

 _"Don't worry," he croons, his eyes like emeralds. "Not much longer. Hold on a little longer and the Puppet is mine for good."_

 _Your awakening is not a bolting up. More of a clenching of every muscle to its screaming point. You are dripping into the pillow, the bed, the sheets. Everything is drenched._

 _Kay is curled under your arm with her head on your chest, dead to the world. The breathing-racket in the corner of the room indicates The Lance is similarly disposed. You tire so easily now, you had to sleep again. The lamp on your desk casts enough light to make out the room. More precisely, the distance between you and the door._

 _It is the first time you actively desire solitude - without Kay. You need to think, parse what just happened, and you want to be alone._

 _It is agonizing slowness to adjust away from her, bit by bit, but you catch some luck when she shifts and rolls aside. You slide off the bed but pause long enough to raise the covers around her. She looks peaceful in her sleep._

 _You leave the room, wandering down the hall. You left the garbage prosthetic, should you go back? No. Not worth it. Who are you going to sign to? It's just us now._

 _Just us, so why so disturbed? Somebody should be enjoying that dream. How is it that neither of us enjoyed that dream?_

 _You want out. How long have you been inside? Where are you? You haven't spoken with anyone but the ones that come to visit you. You don't even know who else is here. A digital chirp from the wall. Then again and louder, as you walk further. There's the door. But the door won't open. Why won't the door open? It is making a much louder sound at you and blaring with red light._

 _Panel right next to it. Digital strip of some sort. You could force the door… no you couldn't. Not now. You are pathetic, pressing your hand against the panel like that will do anything. The walls pulse in time with your heart. Out. Out. Out. You whimper. The floor wrinkles up too, like a mouth opening under your feet as the walls roar. Is it another dream?_

 _Footsteps fill the hall, people pouring in and shouting at you. They're waving guns. Once voice rises above the rest, sharp with command._

 _They will sedate you. There is not one corner of you that wants to sleep and see the ghost of your future again. Please, gods, you just want out and into the air-_

 _A hand grips your shoulder, and you crumple, hands-no, hand-over your head, whining. Muttered oath-you heard this voice once. You passed it on your way to your first washing. Shadow. Overshadowed._

 _"Okay, obviously I'm just going to push into day five, here. Haven't really gotten the chance to talk to you, but I'm told you're perfectly aware of what's going on, even if you don't look it."_

 _Not ready to look up, but listening._

 _"You're really not supposed to be out of that room. And, to be perfectly blunt, if I wasn't worried you'd suck my soul out, I might try dragging you back there myself. You're putting off my sleep and I'm already pushing the limit before hallucinations hit."_

 _You peek up for a moment, then back down. No eyes. Why does he not have eyes?_

 _"So, what do you want? Either of you. I hear somebody in there can talk."_

 _You curl tighter. You don't want to use words right now. You can't explain why it makes things worse inside. Only for emergencies._

 _"Okay. That's out. Look, how can I get you back in there?"_

 _You don't want to go back. You reach a hand up and touch the door panel, which blats a rejection at you._

 _"I can't have you wandering around up there."_

 _The walls swell inward. You swing around and grab his sleeve, yanking his arm toward the panel insistently. You can't breathe right._

 _"Your skin is smoking. Either that or I've hit the hallucination stage early." His voice is tired, but there's a yes in it, and that is enough for you. "Leave off, guys. Just go back to standby, I'll be going upstairs." You drag yourself to your feet as he opens the door, escorting us into a tiny steel room with buttons by the door._

 _Elevator. Your stomach drops for a moment, then adjusts as you rise. The door opens and he grips your arm. "You stay with me. One twitch out of line and I call your pals to reel you in. My name is Dib, by the way. Nice to meet you."_

 _You just want out. You don't register your surroundings until you are under the sun-setting now, but still sweeping warmth across the flatland. You steady yourself on the eyeless stranger's arm, kicking off your shoes. The earth is swept dry and complains of heat straight through your soles, but it is not going to close in around you like the walls._

 _"So, maybe they weren't there for me like they wanted to be," floats past you, drawing your attention to a large alloyed canopy behind the convenience store. The voice continues, "But they did their best, even if I didn't know what was going on. They kept looking for a way out." Armed guards flank the edges and underneath is a small cluster of chairs, mostly empty, with Vivi, Mystery, and a small child in attendance._

 _You do not want to look at the small child yet, either. You hope she does not see you._

 _Chloe sees you. She is the one speaking, standing by a large hole, and you realize she is giving a euology. This is the funeral you were hoping to avoid. Her eyes drill you and you drop your head, shuffling in the other direction._

" _No matter how much it hurt him," her voice raises, an edge lining it. "He never lost hope that he would defeat the monster."_

 _Your feet pick up speed. Dib curses as his grip slips off you._

" _So let's none of us forget!" she's shouting loud enough, the others must be wondering who she's trying to reach. You veer, trying to put the convenience mart between yourself and the funeral. "Let's not forget that we still have a monster to defeat, and we can't ever give up!"_

 _Stupid foal. Stupid, stupid foal. What does she know? Nothing._

 _Dib is shouting now. They will all come for us, so why are we running? We can't get anywhere near far enough. Not like this. What are we running from? Who are we running from?_

 _We can't fix it. We couldn't possibly fix it all. It's too big. It's always been too big, we just decided not to see it, but now we can't help but see the impossible enormity of the mess that we made._

 _Your face is wet. You don't have the energy to spend on tears, why would you waste it like this?_

 _No. It doesn't work like that for the Puppet, does it? It is not an expenditure like it is for us. It is a cleansing._

 _You cannot see in front of you any longer and you trip on something, going down facefirst. You do not get up._

 _Hands on your shoulders. You knew it would not be long. You shake your head, grinding your forehead into the ground. You can't go back, you can't fix it, please._

 _You are pulled up. Vivi is warm. Not the same warmth as Kay, but still warm. Comforting. And he's there too, Lewis. One set of arms, but both are holding you. Your tears soak her shirt. Hot water hits the back of your neck-are they crying too? For you?_

 _"Come on, Squire," she murmurs. "You're stronger than this. You took that whole operation on yourself, remember? You don't have to take this one, but I need you to stay. That's all I need from you right now, stay here. Think you can believe in me that much?"_

 _How can you say no? She believed in you, believed you could do what not even the legends of old thought you could. She didn't think you were just a helpless mortal, even if you were._

 _So. This is what a friend is, Puppet?_

No. Best friends.

 _You exhale a shaky breath and nod, allowing Vivi to help you to your feet, though you suspect Lewis' strength in her arms._

 _"A full on possession and you didn't even tell me?" Dib shouted. "I see those pink eyes! Lewis, seriously? I need to have all this recorded and monitored!"_

 _"Can we discuss this later?" Lewis hissed through Vivi's clenched teeth. "You were supposed to be asleep, anyway."_

 _Your feet hit something and you glance down. Is this what you tripped over? Roadkill, it looks like._

 _No, it whimpers. You drop back down, rolling it over. It snaps at you, long, whiskered muzzle flashing pearly canines. The dimming light makes it hard to tell the color, but shape definitely screams fox. Smells of dirt and travel made at great lengths._

 _Is it one of us?_

 _It can't be one of us. We killed all but one, and that one is hovering over our shoulder now. Stupid Mystery._

 _Just a fox. Normal fox._

 _Tired fox. Dried out fox. Hungry. Can barely bite, teeth missing us every time._

 _"Don't even think about it!" Dib says, exasperation bleeding out of him. "This isn't a shelter!"_

 _You hold it tighter. You don't examine the "why" of this very closely. You just want to fix it. It's a small thing, right? It should be easy to fix._

 _"I'll talk about possession under terms of mutual consent at a camera for three hours straight and we'll stay this way until you get the chance to talk to us when you wake up, but can you please just look the other way on the no-pet policy? We haven't seen him cry since the underworld. We've hardly seen him emote since we came back. This could be important."_

 _"Or it's a fluke," Dib grumbled. "Fine. Four hours at the camera, I get all the footage, you see me first thing in 24 hours. Somebody get him back underground, I've had it with this circus for now."_

 _Vivi supports you, telling Mystery to get back to the funeral and help Chloe finish. You are grateful she's coming, you're not sure you could go back inside otherwise right now._

 _It'll be okay. Vivi will fix the big things. You will fix the small thing, here._

…...

 **Note:** Appreciate the patience, friends. Sorry for the delay. As usual, everything is very roller-coastery with me and stress severely dampens my ability and desire to write. Trying to get back in the swing of it. My thanks to R5h and the admin of The Rise and Fall of Nickelodian FB page for prodding me to inspiration in various ways. Chapter title excerpted from Flaws by Bastille.


	9. Just Beneath The Skin

**Note:** I feel it necessary to warn that this chapter has body horror. If that bothers you, message me and I will recap the chapter for you without going into detail. Chapter title excerpted from Monster by Skillet.

… **...**

 **Membrane Log:** Day three of running this circus (not counting 24-hour sleep period). Vivi and Lewis managed separation while I slept and Vivi has submitted a rough outline of organization for my approval. I've adjusted some time allotments, but it looks to be a good distribution of our efforts. Per day, as follows:

 **9am-12pm** Dr. Dib Membrane conducts biological comparisons and examinations, including autopsy records and samples as well as new samples. Use information to interview participants accordingly (later). Note to self, the following samples will be required of each resident: Blood, Hair, Tissue, Stool, Saliva. Bone sample and Spinal fluid unlikely to be granted. Greater focus on autopsy samples as compared to human samples. Lewis helps Mr. Pepper make food. Vivi and Mystery circulate the food. Volunteers Chloe and Dulcie take the morning shift with Kay and Arthur. Lance is present.

 **12pm-1pm** Dr. Dib Membrane discusses daily findings with Vivi, Lewis, Mystery. Note to self: Have Mrs. Pepper use this time to divert Kay for bathing. Surveillance suggests Arthur becomes aggressive when Kay is distressed, and Kay becomes distressed when separated from Arthur. Distraction is necessary. Lance is present with Arthur.

 **2pm-5pm** Dr. Dib Membrane sorts through alternate case buildups, catch up. Vivi to attempt engaging Kay. Lance to take time off (protest by Lance duly noted). Lewis attempts engaging Arthur. Mystery is present with Arthur and Lewis (for Lewis' protection). Mrs. Pepper is to be enclosed in a sound-proof room and recorded (auditory imaging, NO SOUND) in her attempts to sing.

 **5pm-7pm** Dr. Dib Membrane chooses one member for intensive interview. Dinner served for all others. Meal reserved aside for myself and interview subject.

 **7pm-9pm** Dr. Dib Membrane chooses one (different) member for ability testing. Every test will be explained and authorization requested from the subject. Subject has veto power over any test. Vivi attends Chloe and Dulcie while Lewis attends Mrs. Pepper and Mrs. Pepper. This arrangement switches every other day. Lance and Mystery are present with Kay and Arthur.

 **9pm-12pm** Dr. Dib Membrane continues testing with samples, analyze data collected, log findings. Vivi and Lewis dismissed to rest for the night.

 **Misc duties:** Finish "public record" autopsy report and send in. Obtain permission to bury Aji Pepper's body. Find a way to leash Arthur and Kay so they get overhead time as they display restlessness. Give Mr. Pepper access to online ordering for food, to be added to the normal PoopMart deliveries overhead. Have Torque dig up more dirt for Dulcie's little greenhouse project. Eat sometime.

Chances of everyone following this outline precisely: minimal. Allow for moderate flexibility, but enforce separations and red alerts noted by Vivi.

Final note. First interview is Dulcie. My dreams are clear of nightmares for first time since infancy and I've seen her face there. It bears investigating.

…..

"Vee, you're brushing your hair with a fork."

"If it worksferAriel it worksferVivi."

Lewis caught her hand, gently removing the fork. "You've been running since dawn. You keep this up you'll trigger a swing and you know it."

"Can't talk." she mumbled, groping for the fork. "Gotta brush hair. Go see Chloe. Time for Vivi see Chloe on schedule."

"Hang the schedule, you're going to sleep." Lewis lifted her into his arms. "I'll visit Chloe and Dulcie for you. Dad's cleaning up the kitchen and Mom will probably be up late, I can visit her later tonight."

"Fine but I wantahug when youcomein."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Of course, Vee. But you need to get some sleep. We have our first info-sharing meeting tomorrow."

She was already out. He drifted down the hall slowly, savoring the moment. Separating hadn't been easy but it seemed to hit her harder, like he took her energy with him. For her sake they couldn't do this often. Mutual consent or no, possession had costs.

A mental string snapped to attention. Somewhere a Deadbeat screamed for his attention. He hurried to settle Vivi in bed, distracted as he traced the connection back to the Deadbeat. Where was this one on assignment?

 _Oh no._

The vault his mansion rested in flashed red, the wail of an alarm echoing off its interior as Lewis bolted for the door, flame trails marking his path.

….

 _Hope has an uncertain taste. You don't know how to hold it but you can't exactly make it disappear. If you hold to it and it dissolves then you will be markedly worse off than before. If you don't try and hold it then you will not even begin to recover._

 _Once the not-like-you fox has been fed and watered, it ceases snapping and whimpering at everything. It falls asleep quickly. Too quickly and easily for something wild. Unease, is it really not-like-you? Mystery stares at it, sniffs it over in its sleep, but shakes his head. Not any pack we know. It is still suspicious._

 _You do not care. You push the suspicion away. You are tired of suspicion. It is just a fox. JUST a fox and it needed care._

 _And now, hope. From the moment Kay wakes and lays eyes on it, her eyes cease to wander. When you lay it in her arms-gently, gently-she cradles it, stroking rhythmically._

 _"Look, her fingertips." Mystery draws your attention. The barest tips of her talons show, parting the fur in neat lines with each caress. "She's grooming him."_

 _You do not begrudge the fox this attention. You are merely grateful that her attention is fixed, not wandering. As time and sleep pass together, she does not wander again. The fox alternates between burrowing in her arms and rubbing up against your free arm. Perhaps this will be a part of the healing? Perhaps you have done good beyond the fox himself?_

 _Is it possible for you to do good things, still? It must be. Hope is uncertain, but you must try to welcome it. Mystery can harbor suspicions in your stead._

 _The better prosthetic is nearly complete in spite of the constant rotation of visitors who insist on talking to you. You tune them out. You decline your turn in the open air. There will be plenty of time for that once the prosthetic is complete. The Lance's help has expedited the process so you do not tune him out. He has become adept at reading your silent cues. He says that later he will be able to read your signing too, thanks to special goggles from our host. The junk arm you have now is too laggy to even attempt communication at your normal speed._

 _It still bothers you. The fox does not act like a feral. You would know. He acts like a pet, nuzzling instead of bolting from the arms that hold him._

 _Abruptly you lay your tools aside, cross your arms over the desk, and bury your face in them. Overwhelmed. Did you bring danger here? Is the fox danger? Are you obsessing too much about the fox? You weren't supposed to ask questions, just rest, and now your mind is striving again and you can't stop it. Can't stop it. Can't-_

 _Hands on either side of your head. You are so miserable you can't even resent Mystery's intrusion. You willingly lay bare your concerns. You can do nothing to allay his alarm at your state-he sees how blended you are. He has not sought your mind since the underworld. He reproaches himself with the same viciousness the evening everything went to hell in the cave._ Not soon enough, _he says,_ should have known, _he thinks._

 _You. Both. All. Reach back to him. It was never his fault._ Demeter dug our grave but we never climbed out. We bedded down deeper.

 _Mystery prods this, gently. Asking._ What happened? Why did you leave Her? Why did you leave us, kill us?

 _Gods. Gods. This. This is what you didn't want. The scent of cherry blossoms crashes through the numbness keeping you steady and you free fall into the chasm. You don't know what you are doing but Kay is screaming. The Lance is shouting. Body hurts-you thought you had agreed. No more shifting._

….

Lewis froze halfway through the closed door. White smoke pumped in through the vent in Arthur and Kay's room. Gas, likely, as Kay and Lance already sprawled unconscious on the ground.

Mystery had taken his true form, adjusting for the smaller size of the room. Below him writhed a mass of flesh, alternately howling and screaming as razor-toothed mouths opened and sealed at random across its surface, gnashing and cursing in a language he didn't understand. Here and there a bulge would mold into an eye, wide and darting, then close and melt back into the rest of the form. Fur broke out in patches, trading places with scales and eventually peeling off as bits of leathery hide.

"Out!" roared Mystery, attempting to pin the ever morphing form in place. His movements were sluggish. A concentrated white cloud had gathered around his head and he seemed to be trying to pin the floor more often than the body below him. "Out, now!"

Lewis couldn't move.

The mass cried from the mouth closest to Lewis, "Who are you?" and Lewis trembled.

Vivi knew him. She didn't doubt him anymore. Neither did Dulcie or Aji. If he was unsure he could always borrow their certainty.

"Lewis Pepper," he said, faintly.

The thing heaved, sending glamours of blood pooling on the floor and sliding down the walls. Faces peered out of the pools, surfacing and vanishing. Childrens' faces. Some he knew, some he didn't, but he knew who they were. His own face appeared more than any other, peering out from the wall, the ceiling, the floor.

Mystery staggered sideways and came down on top of the mass, pinning it by sheer body weight. Teeth slashed at his coat, but he only growled, "Come. Back. Arthur."

"Who am I?" the voice shrieked, hysterical. A face pressed up under the skin of the creature, forming just enough for Lewis to recognize Harvey. A grinning bat-skull dropped from the ceiling, trapping Mystery within. A hideous dual voice-Arthur's and the cruel nightmare of his childhood-battered him with the question again. "Who am I?"

Lewis couldn't make a sound. Couldn't move. This thing couldn't be Arthur.

A hideous groan came from the creature as the glamours began to fade. The mass shrank on itself, moaning, "Only justice. Justice, Mother." Extra eyes, mouths, and full faces faded back as the mass took shape under Mystery's unconscious form.

And Lewis finally moved, entering the room and crouching by them both. Arthur's face was gaunt and lined, his head a full shock of white hair. As Lewis heaved against Mystery's bulk to free Arthur, he heard bones crack. Arthur didn't make a sound.

Sweeping Arthur's shriveled frame into his arms, Lewis kicked the door open. If Dib didn't have a doctor on staff, he'd be joining Arthur in the underworld shortly.


	10. Pulling Back The Reins

"Five more minutes," Dulcie mumbled, burrowing into the crook of Chloe's foreleg. It was warm and she'd been doing something important.

"Can't. We're out of time and I need you do answer my question."

Dulcie started, sitting up. Dib crouched by the bed with his mouth set in a grim line.

"Hey. Long time, no see."

Dulcie frowned, prickling at the edge in his voice. "That's not funny. You were here today already. I told you all about the Cage like you wanted."

"This is about the other thing I wanted to know. The one you kept avoiding. I wanted to be nice about it, but it can't wait anymore."

Chloe stirred, snorting. "Dulcie?"

Dulcie put a hand on Chloe's velvety nose, rubbing softly. "Go back to sleep, Chloe. I'll be back in a minute."

Chloe sighed, unfolding her legs enough for Dulcie to wriggle free. Dib straightened and led the way out as she hurried after him.

He turned on his heel, staring down at her. "How did you-" he checked himself, squatting back down at her level. "How did you get in my dreams?"

Dulcie found a portrait to stare at, biting her lip. Dib's interview earlier had been laced with subtle references to dreams and questions about hers. How lucid were her dreams, did she ever sleepwalk and had she developed any special abilities yet? She'd managed to be vague and not give herself away, but there was no way to hide from a question that direct. Especially if he'd come back and woken her up just for that.

"Dulcie, I'm not your enemy. I'm not here to cut you up or lock you in a lab your whole life."

Her eyes narrowed. Wasn't that what he'd tried to do to her Dad, though?

"And I know I screwed up with your Dad. I'm trying to fix that, I am. But I need Arthur and Kay to help me figure that out. Right now I can't get through to either of them. It's an emergency, Dulcie."

Her eyes snapped back to him. He reached up, lifting the goggles away from his face with little suctiony sounds. They dangled below his chin and a pair of bloodshot brown eyes regarded her. "You like Arthur?"

She looked back down to the floor. "When he found out I wasn't human, he didn't try to hurt me. He just hugged me when I cried." And then he turned into a monster trying to save her. Even though she was going to turn into a monster eventually, he was always kind to her.

Dib rested a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention back to himself. "He just had a major meltdown with that thing inside him. His body can't handle much more, kid."

Dulcie glanced over her shoulder, back to the room.

"Now I'm no Sherlock but one bit about your story from the Cage doesn't add up. You said you ate half a tomato to heal yourself then never said what happened to the other half. I'm gonna guess that's your little greenhouse project back there."

She whipped back to him with a glare. "Don't touch it! Persephone made me promise. It's just for Arthur this one time, or else it'll stop working! Promise me you won't touch it!"

Dib ran a hand through his hair. "This guy either has the best luck or the worst. The gods sent over a reset button coded just for him. Has it given any fruit yet?"

She shook her head. "I take care of it every day but it's just vines and leaves still."

"Then that's not fast enough. I need you to answer me, Dulcie. Why do I see you in my dreams? What are you doing?"

"How do you know you're not just putting me there?" she asked, curious. "How did you know it was really me?"

"Because it was a nice dream," he said, flatly. "I have a literal nightmare dimension trapped in my brain. It tried to get out and take over the world once. I have nightmares every night without exception. Then all of a sudden I have all these strange guests, some with abilities I haven't even started to map, and bam. There's the first peaceful dream I've had in decades. Yeah, sure, I really made that one up."

She remembered his dreams. His was one of the balls that was not just murky, but pitch black. "What do you want me to do?"

"What I want and what I need are two different things. I need you to tap into Arthur's and Kay's dreams. I need information. Can you watch without influencing?" At her nod, he continued. "Do that. No matter how much you want to interfere, just watch. Then write down everything and give it to me. Their dreams might have clues neither of them can tell us."

A flash of pink caught Dulcie's eye and she glanced up at the ceiling where a Deadbeat hovered. It winked once, then nodded solemnly.

If Lewis thought it was okay…

She nodded. "Okay. And what did you want?"

The corner of Dib's mouth lifted. "I'd love to hear more about how you pull this off, but that's a much lower priority right now."

Dulcie looked back at the door to her room one more time. "Dr. Dib?"

"Yes?"

"They told you Chloe heals, right?"

"Yes."

"Why aren't you asking her for help?"

Dib's eyes shifted to the door also. "For one thing it looks like she's still healing herself. I've noticed her horn is a little longer the few times I've passed her. For another, Vivi already filled me in on the healing session Arthur had right before you all came back to this world. He still looks like hell after that. Something's not working like it should, either with Chloe's healing or with his receiving of it. I've got the tech to keep him breathing for now, but you take care of that plant, okay?"

Dulcie nodded firmly. "Okay. Thank you Dr. Dib. If I see your dreams again I'll send you some nicer ones."

He blinked, then hurriedly pulled down his goggles, clearing his throat. "Thanks. I'd... I'd like that. It's a nice break. Very thoughtful."

"Can you do me a favor, though?"

"What is it?"

Dulcie slid her hairclip free, stroking the feather fastened in it. "Since I can't talk to Arthur in his dreams, can you put this in his hair?"

Dib arched an eyebrow, taking the hairclip. "O-kay?"

"It's a secret message," she said solemnly. "He'll understand. Goodnight Mr. Dib."

"Goodnight, Dulcie."

…..

It was a setup straight out of _The Empire Strikes Back_. Lewis ran his hand over a plexiglass tube the width of a cedar trunk where Arthur floated, suspended vertically in a thick green gel. Mystery sat at the base of the tank as a small dog, licking his wounds in silence.

The door opened and slammed behind Lewis. His skull sank toward his neck hole. Whether that was Dib or Vivi, he was probably in trouble.

"So. Lance and Kay are sleeping off the gas, and I've been over the room recordings a few dozen times." Dib clipped off the end of each word. "Anyone care to tell me how things fell apart this time? Hmm? How about we start with the quick-recovery shapeshifter. What was the whole hands-on-his-head thing and what happened to keeping him stable?"

Mystery's ears drooped. Lewis, his skull halfway into his neck, said, "It's not his fault."

"I didn't ask if it was his fault, I asked him a question. I'll get to you in a minute. Well? Mystery?"

Mystery kept his head down. "He was distressed. As he has shown no inclination to communicate recently, I went to enter his thoughts. He was perseverating on the fox, caught between believing it was a good thing he had brought it in and wondering if it would somehow be a danger. His analytical skills have always been exemplary, but right now his mind can't take these exertions and he is easily trapped in circular mental patterns."

"So that's what caused the meltdown?" Dib crossed his arms. "Because I've been stuck in similar loops and let me tell you, I don't turn into a howling mess of blood on the floor."

Mystery finally lifted his head. "The situation inside him is worse than I realized. Before there was clearly a part of Arthur that stayed the same as he was before the possession and a part of him that, though not truly my kin, we have called 'The Shiker' because it has the full imprint of The Shiker's life and personality on it. They were distinctly separate, marked by eye color, personality shift, and whether he could speak or not."

Lewis' outline flickered. "Mystery, tell me you didn't use the word 'before' because-"

"Because now it's impossible to tell where one begins and the other ends? Yes. It isn't even a proper healing of what broke. They're both so exhausted they collapsed into each other just to survive. Neither wants it, but neither is fighting it because they can't. My prodding triggered this situation. I take full responsibility."

"Mhmm. Care to explain to me why it is acceptable that you weren't aware of this from the get-go?"

Lewis lifted his skull, but Dib cut him off. "No. Don't even. This is the single most dangerous member of your team _and_ the one who, by all accounts, laid the most on the line to change everyone's outcomes. Both factors absolutely obligate you to uncompromising attention right now. This lands on you, Mystery, and you, Lewis, and Vivi. Seems like Vivi is the one trying hardest to keep him anchored here. You," he pointed an index finger at Mystery, "need to keep constant tabs on him if he ever recovers. I don't care if it's a bathroom break, you are glued to his side from this point on. And you," his finger snapped over to Lewis, "Need to get over whatever the hell happened between you. I saw that pause on the feed. If you could have answered his question we might not have lost him as far as we have. Now he's comatose and all his brainwaves read flat."

Lewis' hair died out, leaving his skull bare.

"A doctor wouldn't have done him any good. He's lucky to be here because short of my bastardized earth-alien tech, you'd have another ghost on your hands. If he didn't move on because he gave up on you, of course."

Lewis' last glimpse of Mystery was of his head between his paws as his own skull sank deep into his torso. Shame smoldered along Lewis' ribs as embers too weak to fully ignite.

A small click sounded, and Lewis chanced a glimpse over his collar. Dib had fixed a small object to the glass over Arthur's face. Dulcie's hairclip.

"Another stroke of luck," Dib muttered. "I'm actually on your side and I think I'm starting to catch up. Turns out Dulcie's a dreamwalker of some sort. I've tasked her with reporting on Kay and Arthur's dreams though I don't know if Arthur is even capable of dreaming now. Lewis."

"Yes?"

"When Vivi and Lance wake up, you bring them up to speed. Until then, spend some time figuring out if you can drop your ball of issues and help drag your friend back from hell, would you?"

Lewis had never felt smaller. "Yes."

"Mystery, you know what your job is. Any flicker in that head, no matter how small, I want you in there and fanning it. Do whatever it takes to get him back in whatever capacity we can have him. We can sort out who's who in there later."

"Understood."

Dib turned on his heel, arms still crossed, and headed for the door. He paused, glancing back at Mystery. " 'Justice, Mother.' What did that mean?"

Mystery flinched. "I believe he was referring to our-my-creator. He has alluded to her death, though I can't believe that is true. I suspect the Shiker did something to her, but every time I try to find out, Arthur locks down somehow. Admittedly, this has been the most extreme example."

Exasperated, Dib shook his head, opening the door. "Yeah, ask him something like that in the middle of his instability. You're a paragon of wisdom over there, ancient shapeshifter. Don't even breathe that question again if you really care about your team. I'm going to get something to eat. Hopefully Dulcie will have something for me in a few hours."

…..

Timothy glanced up as Dib stalked into the kitchen. He didn't care much for the man, given what he'd heard their prior experience had been. Fortunately his memory issue, coupled with Vivi's solid vouching for Dib, helped him set that unease aside and play his part as facility chef.

He focused carefully on his thoughts, thinking the words he wanted spoken without attempting to open his mouth. "Hungry, Dr. Membrane?"

"Famished," Dib answered, throwing himself onto a stool and leaning on the island counter in the center of the kitchen. "A sandwich or a burger or something else fast would be great."

Nodding, Timothy turned to the industrial fridge.

"Nice articulation, by the way," Dib noted. "How's that coming?"

Timothy paused to focus on his thoughts again. "Not like I'm used to speaking, but I'm starting to understand what I need to do to be heard. I still can't keep unconscious thoughts to myself."

"Yeah. Well. Hopefully we'll be able to help you with that when I have Kay and Arthur in on the process."

Timothy couldn't help noticing the heaviness in Dib's voice. "Is something wrong?" he asked, slicing open a slab of focaccia bread.

"What _isn't_ wrong? I'd ask you how this crew managed as long as they did, but you wouldn't be able to tell me."

Timothy couldn't argue with that. He peeled off a couple thick slices of cold ham from the previous day's leftovers as the bread toasted. He let questions about Kay hang in his mind, focusing on his concern for her. He hadn't seen her once for all this talk of her dying, coming back, and losing her mind.

"I can vouch for the 'alive' and 'mad as a March hare' bits," Dib answered. "We still don't know how to break through to her but Dulcie may be able to help. It's the only lead I have right now. Until then, I'm not sure how safe it is to put you near her. She knocked Lance unconscious with her screams earlier today. One more thing I have to worry about."

Pulling the bread out of the toaster, Timothy laid the ham on the bottom slice. He checked the pot roasts he had cooking for that evening. A few pokes and bits of meat began flaking right off. He scooped up some of the gravy, meat bits and onions, pulling the spoon out of the oven and drizzling it over the ham slices.

"I'm gonna need your sous chef on duty for a while. I need Lewis to help break through to our crazies. Seems like the only person I don't need who might be good as a cook, given the records, is your wife."

Timothy turned a brittle grin on Dib, not bothering to filter his thoughts on that subject.

"Language, man!" Dib exclaimed, rubbing his temples. "Listen for a minute, would you? She came to me a couple days back and asked me to muzzle her, alright? She can't make you do anything. What I have locked on her face is coded to my fingerprints and she can't say a word."

Frowning, Timothy recalled the makeshift gag she had come with a few days back. Had that been what she was aiming for?

"You need help. You've said as much. But I need Lewis more than you do. Think it over."

Timothy finished off the sandwich with three slices of sharp cheddar and set the other slab of bread on top. He handed the plate off to Dib, telling him to wait five minutes for the cheese to melt properly. Either Timothy hadn't managed the words or Dib didn't care, as the sandwich vanished down Dib's throat at an alarming rate.

Turning away, Timothy checked the "real water" stock. Ghost water could boil and cook, but it left his dishes dry and tasteless. He was running low already. He was always running low on something, having to re-stock and re-order and cook for the next meal, and at this rate he'd never get a chance to breathe, eat, and sleep himself if he didn't have help.

Maybe it was time to pay a visit to his... wife.

"Wise choice." Dib wiped his mouth along his sleeve, depositing his plate in the sink. "Great sandwich. Can I have something for Dulcie and Chloe? Business is best discussed over a good meal."

…..

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from True Colors by Zedd.


	11. I'll Be Wearing Thin

"Your Dad makes some really great food," Dib remarked, watching Dulcie dig into her waffles. Chloe had been provided a small trencher of steamed greens, well-seasoned by the smell of them, and tossed with sauces. Next to it was a bucket of warm, honeyed milk, which Chloe eagerly drank down, licking the bottom for a last few drops.

"Nobody's better." Dulcie said it so matter-of-factly, without a hint of bragging. "Not even Lewis."

"Ouch, that's harsh."

"Nope. Lewis says so too. He's really good, though."

"Well, your Dad makes a mean sandwich. Maybe I can join one of the fresh-made mealtimes when things are calmer." He sat back in his folding chair, watching her from across the small card table a Deadbeat had set up for her. "Speaking of things being calmer and working toward that, did you get anything?"

Dulcie swallowed, setting her fork and knife down. Sliding out of her chair, she walked back to the bed and grabbed a small notebook from the bedside table. Returning to the table, she handed it to Dib, then picked up her fork and knife to continue.

Dib flipped it open, scanning the only entry.

 _I went into Arthur's dream first. I thought it would be scary but it was just black. I couldn't see anything around or walls or sky or even my hands. The only thing I could see was two Arthurs. Both were curled up as small as they could get and their eyes were shut and their hands were over their ears. Looked like they were holding their breaths too. I watched for a while, but nothing else happened, so I left his dream._

Dib's eyes narrowed. So. That's how Arthur was trying to play it. "Flat brainwaves my ass," he growled, then glanced up, swallowing his words. "Sorry, Dulcie. I'm a little irritated with Arthur. Some things make more sense now."

Dulcie looked uncomfortable. "Dr. Dib, please be nice to him. He tried really hard about everything."

Dib felt the first twinge of real anger at Arthur. "He's not the only person who tries really hard about everything, Dulcie. I don't see why he should get special breaks for that. In my experience, special breaks don't happen just because you need them. When they do happen, it's just the setup to a cosmic joke where you're the punchline. Again."

Dulcie blinked. "But you're making special breaks happen for all of us. And we make special breaks happen for each other whenever we can."

Dib's pulse pounded behind his eyes and he turned his head, drawing a deliberate, slow breath and exhaling it. "That's very nice for you. I'm sure you're happy to have each other." He raised her notebook, cutting off further conversation.

 _I went to Kay's dream after that. She was in the dark, too, but she was flying in it and screaming for help. She couldn't find anywhere to land. Looks like she'd been flying a really long time because her arms were shaking. Then there was a song. It was like when Mom, Aji, or Kay would sing, and then the darkness went away and we were in a park. Kay landed in a tree. It was her special tree. Lewis can tell you more because he used to have to get her down from there a lot when she was upset. She was sitting in her tree and then Lewis came and said everything would be okay. Then it was over._

Dib frowned, tracing a line with his finger. "You said there was a song-you're sure this was a siren song?"

Dulcie nodded. "It sounds really different than someone else singing. I don't know how to explain."

Dib lifted his eyes to study her. "Do you know who was singing or what the song was?"

She shook her head. "Don't know the song but I heard Kay sing the first few parts when she came to get Lewis and me from the Cage. He might know because he got to study music like he wanted." There was a note of wistfulness Dib couldn't miss.

"And what about who was singing it? Was it Kay?"

Her face scrunched up. "No, actually, wasn't anybody's voice I'd heard before."

"But it had a siren sound," Dib confirmed, closing the book. "Thank you, Dulcie."

"You think that means something?" she asked. "I make up new people in my dreams, maybe she did that."

"It could be nothing, but if it's something then it raises a lot of other questions." He stood, pocketing the notebook. "Thank you, Dulcie. This was really helpful. I have to talk these things over with the others now. I have a few ideas on what we could do."

She stood as well. "Dr. Dib, is Arthur well enough for me to talk to him? I haven't even gotten to thank him yet."

Dib's gut twinged at the hopeful look on her face. "I'm sorry, kid. Not yet. But I'll arrange a visit as soon as I can. In the meantime, he has your hairclip to wake up to."

Sighing, she pushed her empty plate away. "Thanks. Please tell Dad thanks, too. Chloe and I will be down in the library for a while if you need us."

Intrigued, Dib asked, "There's a library here? What kind of books does it have?"

"Looks like a lotta music books, but some school books and some storybooks too." She shrugged. "It's Lewis' library. Guess it has whatever he wants."

"Or whatever he's read," Dib muttered. "I wonder… but no time for that now. Enjoy your reading, kid. I'll see you later."

He made his way back out. The halls always gave him some trouble, bending back around to point him away from the front door several times before begrudgingly letting him off at the foyer. If he didn't know better, he'd say the mansion itself had a persona. But that was ridiculous because it was a construct of Lewis' power. Then again, Lewis himself was still suspicious of Dib, so it was no stretch to infer some measure of passive aggressive behavior from the mansion.

He headed back out toward the med-bay, where he'd stationed the jury-rigged life support system. It had been intended for any personnel too badly injured to make it to a hospital in time, only to be used as an emergency stop-gap. The patient rested in an oxygen-rich goo that allowed for Dib's small store of nanobots to move at synaptic speeds across the surface of the body, enter it where needed, and repair damage at will.

That Arthur still looked like a shriveled wreck and couldn't breathe on his own was, most certainly, a result of his own stubbornness at this point. The images in his dreams confirmed it. He was still in there, masking all signs of life on purpose. Dib's fingers clenched around the notebook in his pocket. He had some choice words for Arthur.

"...and another thing, you overloaded grocery cart! If you think pulling this routine is going to make a newt eye's worth of difference then you can blow it out your overdrafted bank reserves because we're going to find a way to drag you back and when you can stand up straight, you're going to get my fist in your face for putting me through this!"

Dib slowed to a halt just outside the room. Maybe he wouldn't have to. It sounded like Vivi was already going to town on Arthur. Maybe it would be enough? He peeked around the corner.

No. Even from the doorway he could see the monitors and their perpetual flatline. Arthur was not moved by her diatribe.

Vivi turned away from the tube and stalked toward the door, shouting, "Now if you'll excuse me! Some of us are still doing serious work like we promised, while other people are running away and trying to die like they promised they wouldn't!" She shrugged off Lewis' hand and bolted through the door.

Dib walked alongside as she ran, one long stride to three of her furious steps. "So. You knew right away?"

"Of course he's faking it," she answered vehemently. "Not the whole shriveled-up bit, but the comatose state. I mean, not faking. Faking's the wrong word. Gah!" She turned, kicking the wall hard enough to leave a dent, then continuing on, limping a little. "He's trying to die and shut us out at the same time, making it look like he's already gone. Stupid Squire!"

Dib clasped his hands behind his back as he walked. He'd been ready to lay into Arthur himself, but her words gave him pause as a new thought crossed his mind. "Are you sure it's Arthur doing this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mystery implied to me that the Shiker is responsible for something that may have happened to their creator. Arthur's last conscious words were directed to his 'mother' which Mystery believes is their creator."

Vivi stopped cold. "Dib, there's no way. There's no way that son of an upstaged fur coat feels bad about anything he's ever done. Do you even know what he did to Lewis?"

"I got the general gist, though I'm sure you're much more familiar with his memories given your escapades in possession."

"Yeah, and I can tell you better than anyone save Lewis-"

"Actually you can't and neither could he. Being victim to the Shiker, he would only see what he needed to in order to survive. There may be information beyond what Lewis ever had access to and beyond what he ever wanted to know."

"You can't seriously be telling me-"

"That the Shiker may be feeling so hideously guilty right now that he's actively trying to destroy his own existence? It's at least a possibility. And if you can't accept that it's a possibility, I need to go talk to someone who might actually hear me out."

Vivi's fingers curled and uncurled, her face pale. Dib waited as she wrestled with the notion.

Abruptly she continued storming down the hall. "No. It's not possible. I refuse."

Dib stayed put, his mouth pressed into a thin line. "Fine, then I have one more price on you taking refuge here."

She wheeled around, eyes hard. "We already settled terms."

"We did, but I think after a couple nights of sleep you will find this one is in the best interest of everyone here, even if you don't like it."

"And what would that be?"

"You need to disband the Mystery Skulls."

She stared at him, her eye twitching. "Over my cold dead body."

That did it. "No, actually, over Lewis' cold dead body, and almost over Kay's," Dib snapped. "And over Arthur's, shortly, if we can't figure this out. And Aji may not have been a part of your little crew, but she sure as hell is cold and dead too because of all the ways this case was mishandled."

Vivi sucked in a sharp breath, but Dib continued.

"If you have some obsession you have to chase to the ends of the earth, that's on your own head. But if you're any kind of leader then you will recognize that you entered this venture with too little training and that it's too late now. I checked your case history. Mostly exorcisms and minor demonic entities. You had success there, I grant you, but I don't see anything else in your repertoire. And by what I see in front of me, you never prepared yourselves for the big leagues. You can't even step back from this situation far enough to acknowledge what could be a major factor in Arthur's deterioration; that the Shiker is capable of remorse."

Vivi opened her mouth, then closed it, her eyes dropping.

Dib stuck out one finger. "If, by some miracle, we get Arthur back, what happens when you drag him into another case that's too big for you to handle? From what I've gleaned, he'll fall back on his Shiker abilities to keep your group safe. And look what happens when he does use those abilities! He's 22, you say? I have the body of an 80-year-old man in there."

He stuck out a second finger. "Lewis, as a ghost, is a great deal more powerful than he was before. He's also a great deal more vulnerable. I haven't made a great study of ghosts, but it seems logical that it's much easier to steal or consume a soul when it's out in the open."

A third finger. "While Mystery probably isn't in that much danger, you now have to handle the unicorn who decided to stay behind. What are you going to do, drag her around from house to house on poltergeist calls? What happens when people find out a unicorn exists? I never thought they were real and even I know about the legends surrounding their horns and the properties of it. Can you say poachers? Exotic animal entrapment experts? Not to mention PETA breathing down your neck and making off with her the second your back is turned."

Vivi's eyes glistened. Dib could tell it was starting to sink in, and he toned his voice down a few notches. "You didn't have proper training for this to begin with. Now the situation is too screwed for training to fix. If you gotta have a taste of the paranormal, I'm happy to have you as my personal assistant like we talked about. But you need to disband this team."

She turned on her heel, fleeing for the lab vault. This time Dib did not follow, instead retracing his steps back to the room that housed Arthur's life support system. A Deadbeat beat him through the door, slipping back into Lewis' chest with a chirp. Lewis had his back to the door, hands hanging by his sides, silent.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Dib challenged, crossing his arms. "You know I'm not."

Lewis nodded once, affirming.

Dib ran a hand through his hair. "So. You were obviously listening in. What do you think about the Shiker having remorse?"

Lewis did not respond.

"Right. Well, I was going to give Arthur a piece of my mind, but looks like Vivi did it for me." Dib withdrew the notebook from his pocket, flipping it open. "Lewis, is there a particular tree you were always retrieving Kay from?"

Lewis' skull swiveled to face him, eyes wide.

"I'll take that as a yes. And do you know the name of the piece of music she was singing when she came to get you and Dulcie from the Cage?"

"Pachelbel's Canon in D," Lewis whispered, "Why?"

Dib stuck his tongue out. "Ugh. Of course it would have to be classical. Listen, I've got details from Kay's dream that might help us get her back. Let me know what you think of this…"

…...

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from Bird With A Broken Wing by Owl City


	12. All I've Ever Wanted To Be

The door Timothy approached didn't look any different from the other doors in this mansion. He quickly learned that trying to get anywhere in Lewis' mansion, other than the kitchen and the foyer, required raising his voice and asking the nearest Deadbeat to show him the way. There always seemed to be one nearby and, though he hadn't seen much of Lewis, he felt comforted by the little pink ghost's proximity. Lewis was keeping an eye out for him as best he could.

For a moment he wondered if he'd been able to provide Lewis with a decent funeral. Fragments of a eulogy and sympathy cards passed through his mind but everything else was hazy. The family must have been all together for that event. He hoped he'd been able to give his son a decent send-off.

A soft chirp by his face startled him. The Deadbeat was curled around his neck, hugging the side of his face. Timothy sighed, wondering when, if ever, his thoughts would be private again.

Raising his hand, he knocked on the door to her room. Teles, he had been told. That was her name. Odd one.

The door opened a crack, revealing puffy blue eyes. Nausea clenched his middle as he caught a glimpse of rich red hair. He shut his eyes, breathing slowly for a few seconds. By the time he opened his eyes, she had vanished from the crack. The door hung open, though, and he pushed it open tentatively.

She stood by the closet, wrapping her hair in a white sheet with a skillful twist. Apparently she was already aware of his reactions. Hopefully Vivi would remember he needed help working through these symptoms.

She turned to face him and he took a step back. A bulky device covered her mouth entirely, strapped around the back of her head and locked to a collar belted at the base of her throat.

So. This was what Dr. Membrane meant by muzzling. Could she speak at all?

A decisive shake of her head answered his question.

The more pressing question was if he would have to worry about her poisoning anybody's food.

She flinched, her eyes clenching shut. She wrapped her arms around her middle and shook her head over and over.

Well. She seemed genuine. The question even seemed to hurt her. He'd keep an eye on her for a time and taste all dishes before they left the kitchen, but if she was willing to lend a hand he did need a sous chef in the kitchen. Lewis was busy elsewhere under Dib's directive.

He must have communicated enough. She nodded, and when he turned to leave, he heard footsteps behind him. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

…...

Lewis drifted back and forth across the medbay, sifting through snippets of Deadbeat information as well as his own turbulent thoughts. Vivi lay bundled up in the room he'd fashioned for her, sides heaving. Mystery didn't dare leave to comfort her and Lewis wasn't sure he should. He was fairly certain his death was not her fault, ordained by the curse as it had been, however he couldn't deny the truth of Dib's accusation. They hadn't been ready and now it was too late. Vivi was the official leader, and he had to let her wrestle this out herself.

"Lewis." The voice came, unexpected, through Lewis' whole being. He stiffened, recognizing Dulcie's call. A quick check noted that she was in the mansion library, but she hadn't addressed a Deadbeat. She had whispered to his locket.

"I'll be back in a minute," Lewis promised Mystery. He envisioned the locket, picturing each strip of soldered metal that formed rivulets down the front and the tattered photo within. A moment later he had recollected himself inside that locket. Manifesting slowly, so as not to alarm Dulcie, he hovered in front of her. He kept a human expression, allowing a warm smile to hide his worries. It had been a while since he had visited.

Her face lit up and she leaped up at Lewis so fast he barely caught her. "Hey there. I missed you too."

Chloe playfully butted her muzzle against his shoulder and he shifted Dulcie to one arm so he could stroke Chloe's muzzle. "And you, too. I'm sorry, there's a lot going on right now."

"No excuse for not visiting family," Chloe scolded.

Dulcie smiled, arms hooked around his neck. "Don't worry, Lewis. I know you got important stuff to do." Her smile dimmed. "But that's why I wanted to see you."

Lewis tilted his head to the side, waiting.

"Dib tell you about the dreams?"

Lewis nodded slowly.

"There's something I gotta tell you about the first time I saw Arthur's dream. I didn't think Dib would get it, but you will."

"Okay," Lewis said, bracing himself.

"First time I saw his dreams, there was him and there was a big giant fox. The fox was making fun'a him and saying all kinds of angry things, making him forget he was Arthur. And then I started screaming his name and Arthur heard me and tried to pull the fox away from me."

Lewis' hair blazed out and his bones trembled against each other as the implications sank in.

"There wasn't a fox this time," Dulcie said softly. "Just two Arthurs doin' the same thing."

Lewis set Dulcie down, not trusting his grip anymore. "Thank you," he managed.

She reached up, squeezing his arm. Then she took the locket cord and drew it over her head, setting it in Lewis' hand. "Also, I'm safe now. You should have this back. Make sure whoever has it can protect it. I'm not that strong yet."

Lewis dropped to one knee and swept Dulcie into one last hug. "You're a lot stronger than you let on. Don't let anyone tell you different."

Dulcie grunted, but kissed his cheek. "Okay."

Turning, he wrapped his arms around Chloe's neck for a few moments. "And you. I owe you a good grooming when I get some time."

She blew through her lips. "You do that. Until then, Dulcie gets all the fun of braiding my mane."

Chuckling, Lewis left the mansion. The closer he drew to the medbay, though, the larger Dulcie's revelation loomed in his mind.

 _"What do you think about the Shiker having remorse?"_ Dib had asked him.

Lewis planted himself in front of Arhtur's tube, arms crossed, his skull showing through a hateful glare. He could feel Mystery's eyes on him, but silence held strong in the room.

Arthur's limbs were all shrunken, his ribcage collapsed in several places that still refused to mend. His hair was pure white now and his skin hung in wrinkled folds.

Arthur had always had his back. Always. Even when Lewis didn't believe he did.

"If you can hear me," Lewis growled, "You'd better listen up real good. The Shiker is a monster. He's a low-life creature who took pleasure in crushing the life out of children in the most heinous ways possible and coming up with new ways to incite them against each other toward that end. I cannot, and will not, ever forgive him for what he did to me. I will never pity him. I will never let it go."

His fists uncurled, finger by finger, and he placed a hand against the glass. "But Mystery's right. He died. He doesn't exist anymore. The person who survived is Arthur. And..." he hesitated, struggling with his words. "If you don't know who you are right now... just wanting to be Arthur... that's good enough in my book. Because he's kind and he's loyal and he's someone who never gives up. And we all kind of want that back."

He rested his forehead against the glass for a few minutes, eyes closed. "We all miss him."

 _Blip._

Lewis' eyes shot open. Mystery's head was up, ears perked.

 _Blip. Blip._

There. The monitors showed activity. Miniscule, but it was no longer a flat line.

Lewis broke into a smile. "That's Artie for you. Hang in there, buddy. If you can hold out a little longer, I'm pretty sure Kay's going to be by to help you the rest of the way back."

…...

Dib sat in the security room, reviewing the feed from Kay and Arthur's room. Mrs. Pepper and one of his newbie interns had checked every hour on the hour to see if Kay's status had changed. Kay, ever since waking from her gas-induced slumber, offered no interaction at all. The only indication of her consciousness was whether her eyes were open or closed. Beyond that, she made no eye contact and responded to no other stimulus.

Dib returned to a point of interest on the feed. It was about 2am, shortly after he had woken Dulcie and delivered her mission. Kay lay fast asleep, the fox curled up on her stomach. It hadn't shown much inclination to stir about the room, seemingly content to be by her side at all times.

At 2:10 am the audio cut. Dib had coded a special filter on this room's surveillance system, not interested in meeting the fate of other investigators who had been exposed to the siren song through recordings. The filter checked for wavelengths extracted from Mrs. Pepper's recording sessions and, on finding a similar range, would convert the sound to auditory imaging.

And there it was. Running below the video feed was the siren song, its waves reaching far beyond what any human was capable of producing. A brief search online matched the shape of the waves to Pachelbel's Canon in D, as Lewis confirmed. Kay could have been humming in her sleep. But Dulcie had been insistent that it wasn't Kay's voice. She would know, wouldn't she?

But Arthur had been quite fixated on the fox, Mystery claimed. Was there something about the fox, then? It _was_ odd to find that kind of animal out in their area. Dib had chosen the nastiest wasteland he could find for his lab. They got the occasional lizard or vulture, but rarely something like a fox.

Or maybe they were being haunted by something less visible than Lewis but friendly enough to lend a hand. Whatever it was, he was going to catch it red-handed and solve the mystery.

He checked his watch. Well, he would do that after their next effort, he promised himself. The authorities should be nearly done clearing the city park Lewis had specified, as well as the surrounding five miles. Dib was going into deep debt with his Dad's credibility, but it was the only lead they had. So a major gas leak was publicized and hotels booked up all over the city for the evacuated residents.

He truly hoped their gamble paid off. Irritating as they could be, there was an admirable quality to this bunch. If he'd been their peer instead of their senior, things might have turned out differently for them. Maybe even for him. But wishing for a different past did no good. Maybe he could make a difference for them here and now.

…...

 _Lewis' words crack your resolve. The glamour of death fades. The deception you fed the tiny robots always seeking entry fades. Your body begins to absorb what healing it can take from science that you are sure Arthur would be curious about, if you were Arthur._

 _Immediately Mystery's presence intrudes, but you do not care. The words give you something you have not had for centuries and you bask in that warmth._

 _Is it true? Is it really enough just to want to be Arthur? And is that what you want? You didn't used to have a single-minded desire. Someone was going to take control and eradicate the other, and the only one who had the strength to do that was me._

 _Me. There is a me. Ha-ha! Puppet, there is a me!_

 _Why are you silent? You are here too, aren't you?_

 _Puppet?_

 _Arthur?_

 _No. I can't be us by myself. Please. I want to be Arthur. Arthur is surrounded by love. It's been so long since I've tasted it, I'd forgotten what it was like. Please, Arthur, come back. I can't do this myself. Kay will be here, Lewis said so. What can I say to her if you are not here?_

 _Mystery you have to find him! Please! I won't remember how to be Arthur without him! I don't care if I have to live as a second to someone else, I need what these creatures have to give him!_

 _I can't be alone again._

 _Please._

…

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from Duality by Set It Off.


	13. I'm A Better Man Now

Dib could feel every pothole, manhole cover, and sewage grate he drove over. He'd been meaning to get his vans better shocks. And new tires. And get the engines checked like the flashing lights said to. It was going to have to wait a long time now. Evacuating a small city's worth of people to hotels for a night was absolutely going to raise eyebrows from the trust fund committee, who were under orders to freeze his funds in the event that he acted crazier than usual.

Good old Dad.

If this worked out, however, he could finally start to develop enough research to sell. The option with the most potential to help him without harming his guests was, without a doubt, the effects of the siren song on the human brain.

However, he couldn't honestly pretend that was the only reason he had gone to such lengths. As amateurish as they were, the Mystery Skulls obviously went above and beyond the easy fame and glory niche of paranormal investigation. Their initial ventures seemed to have the same root as his; curiosity. And while his curiosity had evolved to produce a fierce sense of planetary protection, theirs developed back in a wraparound direction he could hardly grasp. After all, what had family ever done for him? It wasn't possible to deny a wistful envy of the bonds they shared, in spite of tragedy and massive complications.

And so he drove Kay and Teles down thoroughly deserted streets in the dead of night, aiming for the park where Lewis had already stationed himself. Dib wore a massive set of headphones clamped to his ears and Teles' muzzle was locked on silent. He hoped the headphones were enough to protect him. He had Lewis' assurance that such measures had protected Timothy for many years, but Dib hadn't had a chance to test them in a controlled environment. It didn't matter, at this point time was of the essence. An old thrill rode his spine; a splash of danger and adventure that had been sorely lacking in his life for a while.

He pulled up to the curb and put the van in park. A single Deadbeat hovered over a tree at the far edge of the field. Flashing the Deadbeat a thumbs-up, Dib circled around to the side door, sliding it open.

Teles had already unbuckled Kay and scooped her up. Kay was still catatonic, though her eyes shifted in response to her changing surroundings once they had left the lab. The fox leaped out ahead of Teles. Dib grimaced. He hoped it would run off, given the opportunity. It was well fed, watered, and rested. No reason for it to stick around.

He walked Teles to the base of the tree. She set Kay on her feet, supporting her from one side as Kay's knees buckled. Dib caught her from the other side, and both of them placed Kay's hands on the handholds Lewis had described to them.

Kay blinked slowly, her eyes focusing. Some of her weight eased off of Dib as her fingers tightened on the grips. Dib held his breath as Teles nudged her daughter up. Kay released one hand, reaching for the next grip without even looking.

Dib and Teles stepped back as Kay's feet left the ground. She didn't seem particularly aware, but she was moving under her own power. They stayed below her, ready to catch if she slipped, but she found a fork in the upper branches and settled into it and immediately relapsed into stillness.

"I hope this works," Dib remarked. "It's going to be really hard to get her down otherwise."

Teles tugged his arm gently and the two of them retreated to the edge of the park to watch.

It was a clear night, lit by a pocked half-moon and whatever stars managed to pierce the city sky. A couple lamps gave off flickering light, but it was difficult to distinguish Kay from the sycamore's thick branches in the darkness. Dib tapped his goggles in a five-beat pattern, switching on night vision. There she was.

Fifteen minutes passed in silence before soundwaves began to fluctuate at the bottom of Dib's vision. To the right flashed the words **Violin** and **Canon in D**.

Next to him, Teles tilted her head back. Her eyes shut in rapture, cords in her neck standing out, but no added sound registered on his equipment. The muzzle was doing its job.

A second soundwave pattern began to overlay the violin, matching the melody in places and fading out in others. The violin passed through the entire melody of Canon in D once, and yet Lewis did not appear.

The violin waves faded. Dib scanned the area, searching for Lewis. Why hadn't he come out yet?

Then the violin picked up once more, playing the opening notes of Canon in D, then stopping abruptly after the first few seconds. Dib frowned. "C'mon," he muttered.

The opening notes repeated again. Twice. Three times, then faded to silence. Kay's voice had not registered since the first play through.

Five minutes of silence.

Once more, Canon in D began, immediately overlayed by a siren voice. Teles' head snapped up, her eyes wide open. Dib frowned. She hadn't reacted like this for Kay's faltering voice in the first run.

Chills ran down Dib's spin as a third set of audio waves joined in. One violin, two siren songs, and one siren muzzled.

Abruptly Dib jerked his head around, scanning the ground. He nixed his earlier wish about the fox. The other time there had been a siren voice when there shouldn't have been-but Teles' hand on his arm refocused him. Only the violin and one siren song remained. Lewis had emerged.

Dib had never seen the ghost so subdued. He appeared more human, save for the glow that lit his surroundings for several feet and the hollowed-out eyes. A simple wooden violin rested against his neck under the chin and he drew a bow across the strings with easy familiarity. He crossed to the tree slowly, eyes lifted toward the top.

Kay had not noticed him. Her head was tilted back, her eyes closed and mouth open. Her arms were quite a bit thicker. With a start, Dib realized she was fledging. Feathers sprouted from her arms, the ends extending in length though he couldn't make out how her arms accommodated the change. He had theorized based on Aji's remains, but here before his eyes…

The audio waves denoting her song swelled in range the closer Lewis came, his own violin performance nearly swallowed by her voice. He brought the piece to a close as he stopped at the base of the tree. The violin dissipated in a short flash of flame and he stood there, head tilted back, waiting.

Slowly, Kay's song drew to a close as well and she opened her eyes. Her head tilted down, and she froze in place.

 **Lewis**. The word scrolled across the bottom of his screen, the visual imaging barely a flicker of sound. Dib could have shouted for joy. It was the first word she'd said that wasn't "lost."

…

Kay's talons sank into the wood. Was it a dream? It had to be. Lewis was only kind in memory and that sad look had no place on his face.

She struggled to remember how she had come to be in the tree. Her mind was sluggish to respond. Vivi had been hellbent on facing the monster that had murdered Lewis and tormented Arthur. It came to mind as if it had only happened a moment before, but it couldn't have been. There was some vast blacked out in-between period. She could feel the emptiness of it. What happened after she entered the cave with Vivi?

"Kay?"

Her eyes snapped back to Lewis. His hands rested on the lowest branches and she yanked her knees up to her chest, breathing heavily. He dropped his hands back to his sides, still holding her gaze.

"Why are you here?" she croaked.

He raised his hand to the first grip again, pulling himself up a step. "Because you lost your way home, and it was my fault."

Kay's breath lodged in her throat.

He pulled himself up another branch. "I'm no siren, and I needed help to connect the dots, but there's a surefire way to guide a lost siren home, right?"

Her throat swelled, but not with song. He was just below her feet, where he always stopped, begging her to come down before he fell. Only now he didn't even glance down.

"Besides, you told me yourself, remember? 'I want to go back to the sycamore. Come get me, Lewis.' I should have guessed this a lot sooner." His fingertips brushed her toes. "Kay. I'm so sorry. I was wrong. I should never have blamed you. And I should never, ever have used your voice as a weapon. You're not a weapon." He stretched his other hand out to her. "You're my sister."

The breath burst out of her throat in a ragged sob. She unfolded her legs, slipping down the trunk into Lewis' waiting arms. This time she did not pass through him. He was warm and solid under her arms.

He sank into another fork in the tree, rocking gently. "I didn't think I would get to apologize." His voice trembled as he stroked her head.

Kay didn't ask. She couldn't. She just held Lewis tight.

The Shiker. The Shiker attacked Lewis! She grabbed his suit by the lapels, gasping, "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Lewis, we have to find somewhere safe for you and Arthur to hide! Where's Arthur? Where's Vivi?"

The concern on his face unnerved her. Why was he worried for her? He was the one in danger!

"Kay, what's the last thing you remember?"

Oh. The vast blank stretches. That was obviously not the last thing that actually happened. She dropped her eyes. "I… Vivi and I went into the cave. What we were doing wasn't working at all. Then you and Arthur came… that's where it ends."

Lewis took her hands in his. "Kay, a lot has happened since then. I don't have all the pieces myself because we're still missing Arthur's side of what happened when he went off on his own, but I'll tell you what I know. Especially about Arthur. There's things you need to understand before we get back because he really needs your help."

…...

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from Sovereign Light Cafe by Afrojack.


	14. The Answer To The Prayer I Hadn't Found

Kay ran her fingers under her chin again, feeling the knotted tissue bunched at uneven intervals around her neck. She hadn't been able to stop touching them since Lewis had told her…

It was all too much. She had even been there for bits of the in between, but she couldn't recall any of it. And Aji was… and Arthur was…

She wrapped her wings around herself. It was too much. What was she supposed to do about it? "Mom can call him back from that, right, Lew? It doesn't have to be me. I barely know what I'm doing, I could kill him!"

Lewis shook his head. "When we left the Cage and caught up with the rest, Arthur had three full blooded sirens plus Aji singing him flat to the ground and yet he still managed to make headway against their command. He didn't turn back until you started up. He can take siren song now, but there seems to be a certain connection to you and your voice."

"But why?"

"That's what I'd like to know!" hollered a voice from below. Kay glanced down, startled, to see a rail-thin man in a black trenchcoat standing below.

She looked back to Lewis. "That's Dib? The scientist?"

Lewis grimaced. "Paranormal researcher, yes."

"He can hear me this far up?"

"Voice-to-text subtitles on the goggles," Dib shouted. "Couldn't risk dying while he tried to bring you back. Can't hear anything. Do you mind wrapping it up? I'm getting urgent messages from the lab!"

Kay hit the ground feet-first. Dib was already power walking toward the van, calling over his shoulder, "Dib Membrane, nice to meet you, hope you've got some music left in you 'cause it would be great for Arthur's survival if he didn't pull a repeat performance of his recent stunt."

Kay swallowed and Lewis put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing.

"You've got this," he said quietly.

"I don't know if I do. You said he's different now, in a way that maybe I understood as a ghost but don't totally get now that I'm alive again. If I mess up, Lew..."

Lewis offered a sad smile. "Kay, I don't think he can get much more messed up than he is."

Lewis opened the side door for Kay and followed her in. She could see someone already sitting in the front passenger's seat, but couldn't make out who it was. Dib tapped the form on the shoulder. "Hey. If I stick on GPS directions, can you drive? Are you licensed? Great. I have to focus on telling the interns what to do. They're losing their minds."

The form crossed around front, and a jolt ran down Kay's spine. "Lewis, why is Mom muzzled? Dib!" She grabbed Lewis' arm. "Why?"

"Apparently," Lewis answered in a measured tone, "It's something Mom asked for."

Dib waved a hand, distracted. "Something about regaining trust, bla bla bla, soap opera therapy. Last I heard, your Dad finally let her in the kitchen with him again, so it must be working."

Kay shrank against Lewis. "Am... I... going to... have to..."

Her Mom slid into the driver's seat and started the car as Dib cut Kay off.

"Probably not. If we're being bluntly honest around here, which would be a good policy in my opinion, I would have muzzled you from the start if I didn't think your boyfriend would have gutted me slowly for it." Dib spared a glance back. "I'm sure you're a very nice person but you've got a deadly set of pipes on you and half the team has been a powder keg since arrival."

Kay blinked. It was so rarely talked about, even within the family, yet Dib spoke about it like it was nothing new. Just another problem to be dealt with. It was oddly comforting to have it said aloud.

"I'm still not above suggesting it as an option," Dib warned. "I don't know you. As far as I'm concerned, you've just arrived on the scene. How likely are you to sing without thinking twice about who's around you?"

Lewis growled, but Kay squeezed his arm. "He doesn't know me. It's a fair question. So, hi, Dib. I'm Kay, a 20-year-old who's lived in a mixed family all my life. I've had to be careful of my voice since I was 8. I almost killed Lewis then, so I've had to think twice all the time. I don't think I need a muzzle."

Dib opened his mouth for a minute, then closed it. "Nevermind. I've got more questions for you later." He turned back to the panel in his arm. "Note to self, what age do abilities manifest?"

"Age 8, like I said," Kay answered.

Dib's head whipped around. "You're sure?"

"It was that for me and Aji both. We got terrible fevers and started sprouting feathers. Eighth birthday."

"How old is Dulcie?" Dib demanded.

Lewis' eyes widened. "She's eight... been eight for a few months now. We haven't really been thinking about it."

Dib turned away once more, waving his hand. "We'll watch for a fever, but that raises a hundred more questions. Just like every other bit of information I get. Figures. Simmons, what's going on?" He watched his arm for a few seconds before sighing. "Stop, stop, you obviously don't know what's going on. Get Mystery talking into the com. I don't care if a talking dog freaks you out, just do it! Good, thank you. Mystery, why the signal spikes? What's happening?"

Kay and Lewis leaned forward.

Dib slouched, his head drooping as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course. Why not. I don't suppose you all got on the wrong side of whatever god invented Murphey's Law, did you? Forget it. Have Simmons check Arthur's levels. If he's stable enough, start draining the gel and re-acclimating him to oxygen. We have Kay back to 100% so we'll see what we can salvage once we're back. Once Arthur's out... hang on, am I on speaker? Okay, staff is dismissed once Arthur is out. Have someone run around and warn Mr. Pepper, Vivi, and Mr. Kingsmen to stay in their rooms while-Lance is there with you. Well tell him to get the hell out! Now is not the time-Fine, I'll throw him out myself when I get there. You hear me, Lance?" Dib shouted at the panel. "I'm throwing you out when I get there!"

"What's going on?" Lewis demanded.

Dib dragged a hand down his face. "Mystery's got some mind mumbo-jumbo going where he's listening in on Arthur. Says the Shiker part is panicking because he can't find the real Arthur. Mystery can't find him either. Arthur is now capable of functioning off life support, but we may have lost somebody anyway."

Kay looked up at Lewis, who stared down at his lap. She put a hand on his arm, questioning.

"The Shiker wouldn't panic over losing him, Kay. The Shiker would be thrilled to have full control." He lifted his eyes to hers. "It's Arthur. Both of them. Please, Kay, you have to get him back."

…...

 _It used to be, when you could neither rest nor sleep for the poison Demeter planted in your soul, you would stretch your legs and run the circumference of the planet. The body you are in is too limited for such things even if it were not crippled by age, but your exhaustion is no less for the fact that you have traversed every synapse and neuron in the brain in this search for your other self._

 _Mystery's hands are on your head and yet he cannot find or draw on the one you call Puppet either._

 _Is this not what you wanted? You told him over and over that this life was yours once the battle against Demeter was over. That the lives of those around him were forfeit for both the humiliation he forced you through and his underhanded maneuvers._

 _You do not understand how you are Arthur. Well, you understand, the explanation is functional enough, but it is difficult to fully accept. 'Mind-boggling' is what he might say, if you could find him._

 _Lewis, of all people, has hit on it. You_ want _to be Arthur. You didn't realize how much you have siphoned from him, his desires and needs and what drives the man to hell and back. But he has lost nothing you siphoned, because you are still him. It is you who has begun to change through what you have stolen._

 _She kept you close, Demeter. She plucked you from your world and kept you at her feet so you had nobody else to draw on. Her hate was vast, her cruelty a new and untasted energy. And when there was nothing left from Her and you held emptiness inside you for longer than any kitsune was meant to survive, you fell upon Demeter's strength and began to worship there._

 _She taught you the magnification of cruelty and suffering, the intoxication of rage and despair. You learned how to break instead of heal, how to ravage instead of restore. You even aided Demeter in taking Her and…_

 _You cannot. It is too painful. Do not turn to that thought. The one thing you could not take pride in, no matter how bent you became._

 _You are still a bent, broken thing and if what Mystery says is the truth, you died many days ago. A miserable creature, as far from your intended purpose as a pebble is from the stars. Yet somehow there is this chance. Being in proximity to this worm under such circumstances and surrounded by people such as he has, warmth seeped through. Just enough for you to remember what it tasted like and to crave more. All this because of the abilities left in his body. The care of these people untwists you by your very physiology. You see it now._

 _You could never have this on your own. They do not love you, they love him. You are a monster, a parasitical wretch who will be a leech for the rest of whatever this existence is. But if you can find the Puppet, then they will have to tolerate your presence and you can keep soaking in this warmth he receives. You will swear to whatever he wants if you can only be allowed this._

 _But you cannot find him, though you scream this promise from one end of his body to the other._

 _And where has Mystery gone to now? Has he given up already? Now is not the time to be giving up!_

 _No, wait. Something has changed while you were focused inward. What has changed? You are no longer floating. The tiny robots are all gone. Your body is functioning on its own-barely. Perhaps a few months, now, if you are extremely careful._

 _Sheets. Pillows. You smell the L-no, Lance. Arthur's uncle. The one that taught and raised him. His anguish is thick in the air and hardly bearable._

 _And the smell of those hideous hot peppers that accompany Lewis everywhere now. And-_

 _The sea. Faded to almost nothing, but you would know that scent anywhere._

 _"Lance," Lewis says, "We need you out of the room. Just for now."_

" _Go to hell," is the hollow response._

 _A muffled grunt. A thud. A voice, far too satisfied with itself, muttering, "Told you I'd throw you out. Torque, drag him back to his room. Sedatives will hold for a few hours so he won't give you trouble."_

" _You could have been nicer about it." A door clicks. The pepper smell grows stronger. "Arthur, Kay's here. We got her back. It's your turn, now."_

 _Gods. Kay is here. The firstborn, the siren child. If he would come back for anyone it would be her because she can call to him. It will hurt. Her voice is a terrible lash because she knows what you are but it hardly matters. You will bear it if you can only receive the edges of the love he will get. You lay very still, waiting for her to sing his name._

 _Lance is gone, but there is no song._

 _Is something wrong? Is Kay still lost? But Lewis said they had gotten her back..._

 _She is crying. A flash of anger takes you off guard. Did Lewis not prepare her for your body's devastation?_

 _Hands on your face. Feathers trailing everywhere. Lips on your forehead. Warmth-you would trade any sip of anger for this-flows off her. It is a mirror of the feeling he has tended for her. If only you could find him._

 _It's alright, you assure yourself. That is what she is here to do. Find Arthur. You brace yourself to be driven back._

 _Still nothing._

 _Your patience wears thin. Does she need to be instructed on how to perform her own abilities, now? Must you do everything for this godsforsaken team?_

 _"Would you please tell me the story," she asks softly. "Of what happened while I was dead?"_

 _This is not what you thought you would hear from her. You open your eyes, incredulous. "Are you joking?" Your voice sounds like sandpaper on gravel. You cough, licking lips gone paper-dry. "There's no time for stories. You have to find him. I can't."_

 _Lewis vanishes, returning with a cup that he places in Kay's hand. She takes it, setting the edge at your mouth. Water, sweet and cool, flows over your tongue. When she takes it away, you brace yourself again._

 _"Would you please tell me what happened when you left Dulcie." There are tear tracks on her face and her voice trembles. You open your mouth to shout at her, to tell her that if she doesn't sing Arthur back he could be lost forever, to ask if she even cares. But something about her face stills your anger._

 _"Why? Why aren't you trying to find him?"_

 _"I_ am _trying." She takes your hand in hers, the same warmth attendant in her voice as in her touch. "So would you please tell me what happened?"_

 _You realize that every time she has said this to you it has been phrased as a most deliberate question, not an order. Your eyes narrow. What is she playing at? Why won't she use her gifts to fix this?_

 _But her eyes are soft and her hands are warm. If you already cannot find Arthur then it is unlikely there is some ticking clock counting down the seconds before he can no longer be returned. You steel yourself against the anxiety and start where you parted with Dulcie; lying at the feet of Demeter._

 _As you begin, you are surprised to find a great deal of respect within you for Arthur's plan. You didn't have time to notice or remark much on it, but for having to cover on the spot, Arthur had concocted a truly remarkable plan that genuinely fooled a goddess-or, at least, it covered long enough for them to get away. Lewis listened to this part in horror. He did not know, did he? That Arthur ordered himself drained for this plan to work. Lewis knows what that truly means. But you returned Arthur to himself, you did! Even before we'd reached Hades, Kay has to believe you!_

 _She does. She assures you she believes you. She asks you-again, asking?-to continue. You tell her how very dry Arthur's soul was. Again you are surprised at the emotions that rise when you speak of how you had to threaten Arthur into continuing. Extended beyond all his own resources, and yet he pushed himself for the promise that you would leave those he loved alone once all was said and done. You find you are ashamed for having ever taken delight in his fear that he would destroy, by his own hand, all that he loved._

 _You tell her how he managed to convey a deathwish to Hades before challenging the three-headed hellhound. Of the fight where neither of you had the strength for such an effort and so threw as much trickery and guile as could be mustered into the engagement. Of Aji's unexpected intervention. Of the appearance of Kay's soul before a fatal blow could be dealt._

 _"We didn't know you," you say. "You were a beautiful golden bird, standing on our chest and facing down a beast who could have crushed you by stepping wrong, but you scolded him like a puppy." You laugh, the jerk of it bringing tears to the corners of your eyes. She says nothing, but her teeth gleam in_ the first broad smile he had seen on her in months.

 _No. You haven't been like this for that long. That was him. Arthur was there, a flicker for half a second._

 _Gods. She is brilliant, did she know this would happen? You dive back into the storytelling. How you could hardly move the body, either of you, when Hades came to interrogate you with Kay's soul. The moment you understood whose soul Hades had with him. And when Arthur gave his voice over to hear hers once more…_

 _You gasp, falling silent at the sudden heat in your chest. It is so different in the remembering. At the time you cursed her with all the terrible words you could call to mind, hating her for enslaving you. Arthur had embraced it, hoping she would restrain us. But perhaps we each underestimated her. Even now, she speaks no order, sings no notes. She does not seek mastery of us._

Ah, Kay. So careful.

 _Your throat closes. You can't even tell her how much this is working, that you heard him clearly just now, because the very warmth you seek is fuddling your speech and clarity. It is an entirely different kind of drunkenness._

 _It flickers out again, and you are alone. "No!" you cry. "I had him! I almost… damn it all, I'm trying so hard!"_

 _Her hands move from your hand up to your face. "You are trying. You've been trying for a long time, haven't you, Arthur?"_

 _"He's not back yet." You clench your eyes shut, sweeping the same paths in the same search. "I'll find him, I will. Then you can tell him-"_

 _"Arthur."_

 _She calls the name as if it is yours._

 _"I'm already telling you. You are Arthur, aren't you?"_

 _You tremble under her touch. You want so badly to be Arthur._

Who are you?

 _Is it really enough to just want it?_

 _"You said you gave me my voice back. How did the song go, Arthur? Would you please tell me about that?"_

 _Still asking you, not demanding. She is also trying, so hard._

 _"You drove me back." You cannot help the accusatory barb in your tone. She had hurt you, quite purposefully. "As hard as you could. And then you bound him back together."_

 _She casts her eyes down at this and you blurt, "Not bound as in bondage. Bound as in healed. His soul was riven from striving, not even I could make him care whether he lived or died anymore. It was as if your song was the thread that sewed the holes in his soul shut and then filled him with will enough to continue."_

Please. Stop.

 _There he is. Just a little more coaxing. Say it for him. "He loved you before, you know. Finding you there and hearing you sing once more, it only cemented what was already there."_

Stop. Stop. I can't watch you.

 _You immediately shut all else out, pursuing the broken plea. "Puppet. Arthur. Come back."_

Please, don't make me watch. I can't bear it. Whatever your plan is, just let me disappear.

 _A soft melody pierces through, slow and sweet. Even now it does not demand his return, but pleads for it._

I can't! I can't come back and watch you flightstrip and kill her! Please, just let me go!

 _A sick feeling burns the back of your throat, raising bile and making it difficult to breathe. He fled the moment you were separate because he couldn't stop you, but couldn't bear to see what you swore you'd do._

 _You take the statement that let us come apart and put it to him, asking, "Is it enough for me to want to be Arthur?"_

 _The melody persists in begging for his return, but there are subtle tones of reminder in them. Reminder, and a claim. The claim that there is only Arthur._

 _She believes you._

 _"Please. Accept me."_

How can I accept you?

 _You have no answer. The accusation within him rises up strong against you. But it was not you. You house the memories, but you did not do these things. It is a faint distinction, but you have finally begun to see it._

 _And the song shifts into story. It weaves a different view and it is as if a most hated mask is pulled off of you and you are shown clearly for who you are. You bear what Arthur could not, and you became his means of survival so that he could see to the survival of those dearest to him. You took the damage and the weight of the knowledge that would have destroyed him._

 _You are Arthur and so is he. It cannot be denied._

 _He is listening. You feel his appraisal as he inspects you, the brain whirring as he considers the likelihood of this being true. The pause is a farce, he already knows it to be true, but he has as much trouble accepting it as you have believing it._

 _"We are damaged," you say, "And I am that damage."_

You will never go away, will you?

 _"I do not think that I can."_

 _She is curled up next to you. Memories stir in his mind, when she did this upon finding him in the hospital. You retreat, allowing him space to come forward. He is needed more than you. They do not need you, they need him. And, right now, he does not need you either._

 _It is a strange bitterness to feel unneeded._

Obviously you are still needed or we wouldn't be split in two.

 _He regards you further, even as he begins to occupy himself again, taking the control that you cede to him._

If it is true, that you're carrying the knowledge and experiences that can't be erased but that I can't bear, then I will always need you.

 _"Then you accept me?"_

 _Kay's song winds around his response, bearing a measure of healing._

I accept you.

…...

It was barely a shell of a melody, a song hummed under her breath right next to his ear. He could have taken more, indeed he wanted a good deal more, but it faded out as he opened his eyes.

"Arthur's eye color reverts to brown under certain conditions," muttered a man in a long black trench coat. "Initial eye color was green-brown mix. Lewis, care to enlighten me why it went from pure green to pure brown just now?"

Lewis hovered at the end of Arthur's bed, hands wrapped around the plastic railing. "It means welcome back, buddy."

She'd found him. Kay-her wings were wrapped around him, her face now buried in his shoulder. Tears leaked down his chest. He couldn't even lift his arm to hold her back and still couldn't speak to her, but she was back. And she had found him.

That she'd even wanted to find him...

He rolled his head around to rest against hers. He was home.

…...

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from Blue Does by Blue October.


	15. Standing Still is Hard

**Membrane Circus Log:** Forget schedules, I'm lucky if I can keep them from killing themselves half the time. That we got Kay back was a brilliant stroke of luck thanks to our resident dreamwalker and Lewis' efforts.

Arthur is finally coherent and lucid on a regular basis, when he's conscious anyway. I don't trust the green-eyed version of him, but that's the only part that can talk and Arthur is missing one limb needed for sign language. The two parts seem to have reached an agreement that the green-eyed part will communicate for both at this time. Mystery confirms this through whatever brain voodoo he does.

Mystery concerns me. He does not volunteer information and speaks to no one. I need Vivi back to snap him out of it but she's off sulking somewhere.

Mr. Pepper demanded to see Kay, but I have confined him to the kitchen and his room. Lost points with everybody for that, but fact is I don't have enough data on siren voice effects and he's too unstable to risk it.

Mrs. Pepper has retreated to the mansion.

No sign of the fox. Accounts of Arthur make him out to be smart. Maybe he was right to be worried about the fox, but then why in hell did he take it in? Can't ask him now. Nearly-dead people tend to sleep a lot. He's barely awake an hour at a time anymore, hardly talks, and spends far too long staring at Kay with that dumb puppy look. What bits I can get from him are short and vague. He's not interested in spending his remaining weeks enlightening me. Figures.

He is smart, though, that's not just talk. Found the prosthetic he's been working on. From memory. From scratch. Without blueprints. Impressive piece, but incomplete. What the hell. I'm not going to get sleep tonight and if I finish this maybe I'll finally get some info from him.

Lance gives me all kinds of stinkeye when I pass him. You're welcome for getting your nephew back. No, you can't see him yet either.

I've had a sunlamp brought in. I thought I'd need to get Dulcie's plant better soil to replace that dry dust from above, but seems the plant has enriched the soil to suit itself. It's not even the same texture or color dirt as before. The plant is flowering, thankfully. With a couple of my robot bees we might be in business pretty soon. This thing is definitely not from Earth, not with that growth speed. I'd kill for some samples but Dulcie seemed really insistent about her promise that nobody else gets to touch the plant. If they really have been in contact with Greek gods-something I've no reason to doubt anymore-they've been known to set up damning situations if things didn't go their way. Going to have to bite the bullet on this one.

Chloe's horn seems to be doing well. She says she's not sure it's supposed to be that twisted and it does seem to be a bit off center. Not much to be done about that as she won't even hear about corrective surgery. She says if she ever sees another surgical tool again she'll quack and vanish in a flash of light and stop existing "for ever and ever." I'm not sure I believe her, but what am I supposed to believe when I'm talking to a unicorn?

Finally got clearance for Aji's body to be buried. Took them long enough. Lewis is _not_ going to like what I have to ask him to do.

We'll convene this evening for the burial. Kay consented to a muzzle for the duration of the ceremony in exchange for seeing her father. Muzzle will be removed once they are apart. I think everyone's coming except Arthur and his guard dog, Mystery. Arthur seemed distressed when I told him he couldn't be moved from the medbay, but I'm not losing him when we've gone through all the trouble to get him back. He can visit the grave later. It's not like Aji's going anywhere.

Never more aware of talking to myself now that there's actually decent conversationalists and intelligent research subjects around. Even if they're not an official team anymore, they're still their own team.

Gods. That is like salt in a gash sometimes.

….

Vivi was pretty sure she would pass for a raccoon the next time Lew found her. A glance at a mirror she passed in the mansion gave her a glimpse of the dark circles under her eyes before her physical reflection was replaced with the more disturbing image of herself arcing back and forth on a swingset, headless.

She pulled her quilt tighter, trudging down the hall. "Swings. I get it. Hah. Hah. Hah." There wasn't enough volume in her voice to trigger an echo and each syllable faded swiftly to silence.

She didn't want to know how long she'd been walking, trailing the blanket from one end of the mansion to the other. At first, doors had opened themselves along the hall, each one leading back to the room she had first vacated. After she kicked a few of them shut, they ceased to open more than once every now and then. The hall stretched on, endless, allowing her to keep trudging.

Once or twice she'd set down on the floor against the wall and dozed, but on waking she would rise and resume walking. Someone would find her eventually. Probably Lew. She needed to have this mess sorted by then, but she didn't even want to think about it. If she kept walking she didn't have to.

Another door swung open a ways down the hall. Vivi fixed her eyes on the ground, intending to pass it by as usual, when the sound of rapidly approaching hooves caught her attention.

Sure enough, Chloe burst through, lifting her front hooves off the ground just a couple feet with an overdramatic whinny. Dulcie clung to her mane, cheering her on as Chloe wheeled about to face a glowing-eyed suit of armor that clunked slowly after them.

"Stay back!" Chloe neighed, challenging it with a snort and a stamp. "I may carry a magical girl, but you are a challenge unworthy of her transformation. I will run you through to pieces myself if you do not stay back!"

The suit dragged itself forward another step, wrapping a hand around the sword hilt at its waist and hunching forward.

"Very well!" Chloe shook her mane, prancing in place.

Dulcie giggled in delight. "Get 'im, Chloe!"

Chloe lowered her head and prepared to charge, but her eye slid sideways, catching sight of Vivi. "Oh! Vivi-chan!"

The suit of armor halted, releasing the sword and tilting its head inquisitively. Vivi cleared her throat and mustered a smile. "Hey, good to see you guys. Looks like you're having fun. Sorry. I just got lost on my way to the kitchen. I'll see you later, yeah?" She turned, headed\\\ing quickly in the other direction.

"Matay."

Vivi grimaced. "Don't worry, Chloe. Just have fun, okay?"

"Gomen," Chloe murmured behind her. "We'll have to finish another time. Arigato, sir Armorwear. I'll find you later, Dulcie."

Vivi picked up her pace, hoping to get away, but Chloe easily caught up, her back now empty.

Vivi tried distraction first. "Sir Armorwear?"

"Well, we had to call him something. He's nice enough to be playing with us, after all."

"Yeah, well, it's just Lew, y'know." Vivi pulled her smile wide and forced her head up. "He's everywhere here. Can't be here himself right now, but still keeping an eye on everybody, just like he always-"

"Vivi-chan, you haven't done this for a really long time. You shouldn't start now."

Vivi stopped in her tracks. "What am I doing?"

"Before you finally told Duet why you were taking so many sick days, you used to smile really wide and talk louder than usual and laugh really hard, and it all sounded too sharp and hard to be real."

Vivi slowly sank to the ground, drawing the quilt up over her head and huddling in a little cave of muted colors. Chloe's bulk settled nearby, a muzzle prodding Vivi gently. "What's wrong, Vivi-chan?"

Vivi just leaned back against Chloe, sniffing hard. She would not cry.

Chloe bent her head around and dropped it in Vivi's lap, peering up at her through the only opening in the quilt.

"Hey, hey now," Chloe whickered. "Vivi-chan, shhhh. You'll be okay."

"You don't know that." Vivi's voice cracked.

"But you've ended up okay before. It takes a few days, right?"

"I don't know if this is a swing, Chloe." Vivi burrowed deeper, hiding her face from the inquisitive golden eyes. "It's hard to tell a downswing from grief."

Chloe was silent for a time, but she nuzzled Vivi.

"It's stupid." Vivi rubbed her nose on the inside of the quilt. "We just made this group, like, yesterday. It's not even that well established. We'd just started getting noticed. How come it wrecks me to think of breaking it up, huh? Where's the sense in that? So much worse has happened because of the group being together. I should be happy to see the team dissolve and get back to whatever they have left." She swiped her nose harder. "Except what does Lew have to go back to? He's dead! He's not even supposed to be here! And if he's not here..." Her chest heaved, and she heard a concerned chirrup overhead. But she was long past caring if Lew got word of what she was saying. "He shouldn't have to stick around like this just because I..."

Chloe sighed. "Baka Vivi-chan," she said, affectionately. "He wouldn't stay if he didn't want to, right? I mean, can you keep him by force?"

"Not as far as I know," Vivi mumbled. "Half the trouble is convincing ghosts to move on, there's no known trouble keeping them."

"So you should know better. If he's staying, it's because he wants to."

"But he'd be able to move on if..."

"If what, Vivi-Chan? He has his family to see to, also, doesn't he? Maybe he wants to stay and make sure they'll be able to settle back into normal living. Maybe he wants to fix his friendship with Arthur-sama. Maybe," and here she raised her voice, "he knows he owes me a good grooming at least once before he goes."

The repeated chirps overhead sounded suspiciously close to laughter.

"What I mean is, he might have a lot of reasons to stay. Disbanding the Mystery Skulls probably won't make him leave."

Vivi huddled against Chloe's side.

"Can I take a guess, Vivi-Chan?" Chloe asked. Vivi grunted in response, and Chloe murmured, "Ending the Mystery Skulls doesn't mean ending your friendships or that you're useless."

Vivi gave a sharp little cry.

"I'm sorry to be a burden, but I'll need your help. And that kusogaki dog, too. You're all the family I have, now. I need you. And you're not losing your friends. It's just the way you work together is probably going to change, right?"

"It still feels wrong!" Vivi blurted.

"But is it, actually?"  
Vivi said nothing, and Chloe let it be. Vivi was pretty sure what she'd have to say and do once the storm passed, but it was hard to think straight through the desperate little plans to cling to their group that kept popping into her mind. Maybe she could wait out the swing here.

"Hey, Chloe?" She poked a hand through the blanket hole, gingerly resting it on Chloe's muzzle. "Can we just stay like this for a while? I just… I think I need…"

Chloe nickered quietly. "Stop talking, Vivi-chan. Just rest."

….

Making eye contact had never been such a struggle before. It wasn't with everyone, as Arthur could easily lose himself in Kay's eyes and never come back. Sometimes he wished he could.  
But it felt like Dib was staring at him through those bug-eyed goggles no matter where he stood in the room and Lewis' gaze still hurt too. Arthur refused to even try with Mystery. He could tell that was not completely his decision, but he didn't feel like fighting himself over it.  
It would be easier to ignore Mystery if he weren't the only other person in the room. He had some fuzzy recollection of Kay whispering in his ear about going to the service soon. He must have been on the verge of falling asleep. Again.

He closed his eyes, slowing his breathing and trying to force himself back to sleep. It came for him often enough on its own, couldn't he just sleep until Kay came back? He didn't want to think about how he was missing yet another Pepper funeral. And he really, really, really did not want to talk to Mystery. Whatever Shiker had done, he was determined to hide it deep enough that even Arthur had no access to the information. He had no desire to fracture further by pursuing information that was not absolutely vital to survival at this point.

A weight settled on the end of the mattress just to the right of his feet. He kept his eyes shut.

"Dulcie wanted you to have this. Do be decent enough to take it. She's been worried."

Arthur's eyes flew open. Dulcie. How in all the gods' names had he not spared her a thought?

 _We were preoccupied, mishmashed, and falling apart. She was not part of our immediate survival._

Mystery perched at the end of the bed, nudging a shiny flash of something along the sheets toward Arthur's hand. When it was close enough for Arthur to reach, Mystery sat back, his eyes hidden behind the spectacles.

Cautious, Arthur stretched out his hand and curled his fingers around the object, pulling it closer. Moisture stung his eyes as he recognized Dulcie's hairclip. How many times had they traded it, now? He slid it into his hair. He could use a little reminder to be brave.

"She's quite well and safe thanks to everyone's efforts. In fact, I hear she's been quite instrumental in Kay's recovery. Might be instrumental in your restoration, shortly."

 _You want to latch onto the hope in that sentence and ask him what he means, but you cannot sustain hope crumbling again. Pretend he said nothing about restoration. It probably will not happen at this point. You don't see how it can. There aren't many things that can save you at this point. Not in this world._

"Which throws into stark relief the fact that I am incapable of helping you further."

 _Quash the surprise. Don't look him in the eyes. This is just a ploy. Don't connect._

"I'm going to find Mother."

The statement swept past Arthur and blindsided the Shiker. A flash, a glimpse of a wound deep and raw that could never heal as his mouth opened and answered back, "You will never find her."

There was no malice in the statement. No taunt. It was merely fact to the Shiker, a collection of words dead and heavy on his tongue.

"Perhaps. But if I don't try, then I truly never will."

Arthur stretched out his hand and the Shiker delivered his concerns, wrung dry of any sincere alarm. "What about Vivi? What about Chloe? You can't just leave us."

"You are mistaken. I can just leave you." Mystery held perfectly still, his spectacles glinting under the flourescent lights. "Vivi has Lewis. She no longer needs a service dog or a protector. You have all proven quite capable of finding your way through difficulties together. All of you. I have no doubt you will find some way of helping Chloe to adjust in her new situation."

Arthur's thoughts raced, mingling with Shiker memories. Not too deep, that was not allowed, but things of surface importance. Why was Mystery leaving now?

 _You will not learn of Mother. Do not try._

But kitsune biology was fair game. Absorbing off excess emotions, either for self or for delivery to another creature, right? How long below the surface? How long had Mystery been deprived of Vivi's affections? She had turned her attentions on helping the group, that's what she promised him she would do. Take care of everything. But Vivi didn't have attention to detail, things would slip through the cracks even with her best efforts.

Mystery. Mystery slipped through the cracks. Now there wasn't enough to hold him here.

"If you are starved for affections-" the Shiker began.

"Do not speak of what you do not understand." Mystery's teeth clipped together. "Of course I miss Vivi. Of course I am pained not to be of greater service to her right now. But you with your remnants of my packmate have dropped enough tidbits for me to conclude that Mother is alive and that she can be found. And if that is the case, there is no higher loyalty than to her." He turned and slipped down to the floor. "Vivi will not understand. I do not expect you to be able to explain it to her. I will not hope for her forgiveness."

Arthur's throat jammed with cries and pleas to come back, but his mouth remained shut.

Mystery paused at the door. "For all the damage I have dealt to you, Arthur, and the devastation my packmate has caused you, I can never hope for forgiveness either. But I will try to find some way to make that right. The only person who might be able to do that is Mother. Goodbye."

And with that, Arthur was alone with himself, wondering how he would be able to tell Vivi.

….

 **Note:** I really appreciate everyone's patience. Feels like I say this every few chapters since mid-Torn Apart, but there are a lot of major upheavals and changes going on. It's kind of major long term upheavals and changes. Stress has a major impact on my ability to write and this chapter was very frustrating, I tried attacking it from several angles. Still not fully satisfied, but done avoiding it. I'm going to plow through this one and let the chips fall where they may. Many thanks to R5H for helping me break through the block this round. Have ya'll read his MSA fic, Moving On? You should… Chapter title excerpted from You've Got Time by Regina Spektor.


	16. One Of the Forgotten

"So. Guys. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this." Vivi scuffed her shoe against the side of the wall. "We had a good run, y'know? I mean, the last case ended in absolute disaster but…" she sighed, flexing her fingers. "Let's try that again. I think now would be a good time for us to all get back to our lives. Or, what's left of our lives. For those of us still alive. Fridgemallows."

She twisted the end of her scarf, shifting from foot to foot outside the medbay. Maybe she should have asked Chloe to come after all. Chloe would have pushed her into the room by now, forcing Vivi to face what she'd been putting off by practicing at the wall for the last twenty minutes.

Gritting her teeth, Vivi put one foot in front of the other. If Chloe wasn't actually here then Vivi could just pretend her friend was pushing her into the room. It felt weird, but she found herself closing in on the door and passing through it.

Far from being ringed by a doting entourage, Squire proved to be the room's sole occupant. No longer in a goo-tank, he occupied a hospital bed with IV's in his arms and electrodes on his scalp. Spots had been shaved for flush attachment, but the surrounding hair was shock white. He wore no shirt, but his torso was wired to monitors as thoroughly as his head and remaining arm.

"Where the thunderbroom is everyone else?" She put her hands on her hips, scowling at the cameras trained on Arthur. "Mystery said he'd stick by you! And where's Lewis? Inebriated cactus spikes, I turn my back for a couple… hours…"

His eyes were open, watching her. A frozen green stare. Bile rose in her throat. That sick, twisted, demented dog had won? He'd beaten Arthur? Why-

The eyes narrowed at the corners, the skin around the eyes creasing. He hadn't said anything yet. What was he doing in there? Judging her? What right did he have, the sniveling fleabitten soul sucking cadaver? If only she could kick the pringles out of the Shiker without slamming Squire.

He coughed, closing his eyes and turning his head away, grimacing. It was an awfully dry cough. Was he panting? She glanced around the room, spotting a plastic pitcher by the stainless steel sink. Grabbing it, she jammed it under the spout and twisted the knob. A clatter at her feet drew her attention to the hand grabbing her ankle.

Not just a hand, an arm. A metal arm. She'd knocked it off the counter. Releasing the pitcher, she bent down and picked up the prosthetic. It looked like the one Squire had been working on, but she'd last seen it splayed open with bits still scattered all over. She bent its joints, squinting up and down the length. Looked pretty complete. She walked around to Arthur's left, pausing just long enough to snap, "Brace up, bristle tail," before shoving the connector into the shoulder implant.

His head swung around, face twisted in a snarl that bared far too much gum and tooth. She jerked back, but he'd already sunk into the pillows, panting further from the effort. Returning to the sink, she stopped the water, removed the overflowing pitcher, and brought it over to the bed. She placed it to his lips, muttering, "I don't know who sets out a pitcher and forgets cups around here. Drink up already."

He parted his lips as she tilted it, drinking in long, slow swallows. She kept tilting until he lifted a hand, halfway through the pitcher, and she set it aside.

Slowly, the prosthetic flexed at the elbow, drawing up off the bed. The fingers curled into the palm, then uncurled, and the thumb touched the tip of each finger with a soft _click, click, click, click._ The wrist swiveled about clockwise, counterclockwise, and flexed once more at the elbow before returning to rest at Arthur's side.

Vivi dragged over a chair and thumped into it, staring at her knees. "So. Is there anything left of Squire, or did you delete everything?"

A pregnant pause hung between them, broken by a wry, "Oh, no wonder," from Arthur's mouth.

A hand crossed her field of vision, waving slowly for her attention. She lifted her eyes to find tired brown eyes watching her, a crooked little smile on Squire's lips. He lifted his hands, but she just grabbed them, whispering fiercely, "You're still here. Oh gods, you made it. For a minute I thought…"

He shook his head, still smiling.

Laughing, Vivi released his hands. "You're a cockroach, do you know that? Look at you. I bet we could drop a bomb on you, and you'd find a way to come out of it okay."

Arthur snorted, waggling his fingers in a spooky motion.

"Yeah, ghost, sure. Why not." She wiped her nose. "Listen. I guess, since you're the only one here, I may as well tell you first."

He wrapped a hand around hers for a moment, cutting her off, before lifting his hands again. **We heard you in the hall.**

Vivi wasn't sure what hurt more, hearing him admit to still being "we" or the slow, slurred sign he produced. "Yeah. Well."

 **Thank you. We're too tired, Vee.**

She swallowed. "I know." Clearing her throat, she got back on track. "So. I thought I'd be saying this to everybody. Where are they?"

Arthur turned his head quickly, but not fast enough to hide the switch back to green. Vivi's jaw tensed. "Squire-or, whatever's still hanging around-I need an answer."

"They're at Aji's funeral. We weren't invited. Our health is too fragile," he sneered. His fingers twitched, but he growled, "No."

Vivi's eyes narrowed. "Listen, you parasitic hairball of ill repute, if Squire has something to say then I'd better be getting that too."

"Or what?" he mocked. "Or you'll call me new names?" he flinched, curling in on himself. "No, don't. I don't want to. She'll find out herself."

Vivi closed her eyes, her lips twitching as sorrow pooled in her lungs, squeezing more air out with every breath. Mystery had no reason to go to Aji's funeral. He was supposed to be watching Squire. He'd promised…

"Mystery hightailed it, didn't he?" she whispered, lifting her head.

Arthur faced away, but his arms twisted around to sign, **He said he had to find 'Mother'. I can't find out who Mother is, but it's important. He's really sorry.**

"More important than me. Than us. Yeah." She hauled in a deep breath. "Fine. I guess I deserve this. But he could have at least told me to my face and said goodbye." She scrubbed her face furiously. "I guess that just leaves Lew to tell, but he's busy. Mind if I just stick around here?"

He turned back toward her, his eyelids drooping. **If you don't mind me falling asleep. So tired.**

She nodded, patting his arm. "It's just good to have you back. Go on, rest up. Lew and I still have everything under control."

His eyes closed, his breathing settling into an even rhythm. The lie tasted sour on Vivi's tongue. No matter how hard they tried, there was no way of keeping everything under control. Was this the futility Arthur had felt? It was a wonder he'd borne up as long as he had. Vivi could already feel control slipping right back through her fingers.

….

Lewis slid the side of his palm along the table, spilling ash over the edge and into the urn. He moved slowly, careful to catch every bit as he cleared the table a few inches at a time.

"It just takes one guy as suspicious as me!" Dib had warned him. "One guy with something to prove and a shovel. You've got to do this and not just for Aji."

They were waiting above for him to finish, but he couldn't go any faster. He refused to leave so much as a speck behind.

This would have to be done for every siren in the family on their death. The implication lay like a lead weight on his soul, his locket pulsing dim and slow. He wished fervently for Vivi. Cremating his loved ones as they passed on was not what he'd signed up for.

He wondered what Aji was doing now. What sort of realms she'd have to venture into on her search for the souls of the youths she'd killed. If she was scared. If she was lonely.

The last of the ashes spilled into the urn and he capped it, cupping it to his chest. He wondered if he would get to see her again if he passed on, or if they would be separated because his was a purely human soul. Did such things matter to the gods?

Cradling the urn, he lifted off the ground and drifted up through several feet of earth. His skull broke the surface and he glanced around, spotting the alloy canopy a few feet to his right. Ducking his head back down, he shifted over before fully surfacing.

A few chairs faced a freshly dug hole at the front end of an alloyed canopy. Same setup as Duet's funeral, and just one slot over from that grave. Teles and Timothy had claimed chairs on opposite sides of the tent. Kay had taken a seat by Timothy, her hands folded around his. Lewis' hair crackled at the sight of Kay in a muzzle, but he said nothing. Dib had made it clear that Timothy couldn't be allowed to hear a siren voice until they knew more.

Behind them, scooted as far back as the canopy allowed, Dulcie sat, wrapped head to toe in a white sheet. Lewis checked, but he couldn't see a trace of pink hair. Just a solemn face intent on its knees. Dib sat next to her, leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. Always watching.

Lewis stood by the hole, summoning a pillar to rise from the center. Tenderly, he placed the urn on the pillar.

 _I need Vivi._

He couldn't let go of the urn. What was he supposed to say at a funeral? He'd never been to one. Was he supposed to bring up a fond memory? Should he try to defend her actions? Read her favorite poem?

He was supposed to let go. He was pretty sure about that part, but he couldn't bring his fingers to uncurl from the urn.

A hand lay across his. Kay, squeezing his fingers gently. Dulcie joined in, laying her hand on the side of the urn. Timothy's trembling fingers stroked the top.

Teles made no move to join them. She remained in her seat, staring listlessly ahead.

Lewis looked to Kay, who nodded her head once. No words or formal ceremony were needed. It was just them. Lewis removed his hand, waiting for the others to follow suit before lowering the pillar into the earth.

Then it hit him. No words, of course. Something else entirely. He took a step back as Dib motioned a grunt over to fill in the hole. With a flash of flame, Lewis brought forth his violin, setting it under his chin. Kay's eyes were fixed on him and he offered a sad smile. Closing his eyes, he drew the bow across the strings, releasing a long, low note.

 _"C'mon Lewis, please? Just a few minutes. I'll go to sleep, I promise."_

His outline flickered. He fought to keep still, to keep silent as sorrow collected with every shovel full of dirt.

 _"So do it nowwwwwww. When I'm eight, you can't anymore."_

The bow quivered, squeaks gasping through the solemn vibrations. That was his baby sister vanishing into the ground. He'd led the way and she'd followed, six feet under. Not even sixteen.

 _"I'm gonna miss your music."_

He wrung the tears he could not weep from the violin, giving voice to his grief through the low, sonorous wail of the strings that grew in scale and volume in his mind until music was all there was, sweeping him along in a current of wordless mourning.

"Lewis! Lewis! Stop!"

His skull went flying, rolling end over end in the desert dust as the music screeched to a halt. Disconcerted, he called for a Deadbeat, trying to re-orient as it picked up his head.

The rest of him stood, frozen in place, opposite Dib. But Dib was looking at his skull, glaring as he rubbed his knuckles. "A little awareness, Lewis?" Dib snapped, turning to join a small knot of his family clustered on the far side of the tent.

The Deadbeat reattached Lewis' skull, and he hurried over. Teles lay sprawled on the ground, eyes rolled back in her head. Dib was already yelling something at a panel in his arm. Lewis pried his family members back and pulled Teles into his arms, hurrying back to the convenience store.

They were muzzled. Both Kay and Teles had been muzzled, there wasn't supposed to be any harm in playing music. He crushed Teles to his chest as he ran into the bathroom, triggering the elevator. She was so light in his arms. The last time he'd held her, he'd dragged her out to face Arthur. To face Demeter.

She was much lighter now than she had been. He stared down at her chest, noting the protruded collarbone. The jutting wristbones of the arms folded haphazardly over her chest. The neck drawn inward over every vein and cord.

A growl resonated through his bones and heat licked out from his suit.

"A little awareness, Dib?"

….

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from Faceless by Red.


	17. Things that Echo from the Past

For Dib, it was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. First, Teles' eyes rolled back in her head. Then she sagged to the side, silently dropping to the ground. Dulcie was on her feet a moment after Dib, darting forward and grabbing her father's shoulder. Timothy, then Kay and even Dulcie rushed to Teles but Lewis was absorbed in his pity party concerto.

Three long steps brought Dib face to face with Lewis and a swift uppercut ended the music. Teles had been fine before Lewis started playing, that much was clear. "A little awareness, Lewis?" he snapped, turning away from the ghost's retrieval of his skull. Pushing through the knot of Peppers, he checked Teles. She was breathing and had a pulse, both good signs. She hadn't fainted last time Lewis pulled out his violin, why this time?

No time to speculate. Dib flipped open his wrist-comm and barked orders to prepare the medbay for a second occupant as Lewis slid past him to scoop up Teles.

Two minutes to gather the Peppers and send them off; Dulcie to her room in the mansion, Timothy to the kitchen, Kay back to Arthur's side. He assured them that as soon as he knew what was happening, they would also. Two minutes to instruct the grunts, ensuring they would finish the burial, erect the small gravestone, and break down the canopy. Two minutes to get back to the convenience store. Four minutes pacing, waiting for the lift that the Peppers had taken ahead of him. A minute to get down. Five minutes to get to the medbay.

"I'm going to wring his scrawny neck, Vivi!"

Dib pulled up short outside the door. He did not appreciate Lewis' tone.

"Deep breaths, Lew. A few days couldn't-"

"Deep breaths? _Deep breaths?_ Really?"

Dib could hear the wince in Vivi's voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. Lew, I mean a few days with the muzzle wouldn't have made this much of a difference. Even before that she wasn't eating. She's been with me since we sprang her from Dib's lab the first time and none of us really had time to eat until the whole ordeal was over."

Realization hit Dib in the gut and he wheezed, leaning hard against the wall. Shortly after they'd arrived, he'd muzzled her. With a muzzle she couldn't take off. With a muzzle that _he_ had forgotten to remove so she could eat.

But surely she'd eaten between arriving and getting the muzzle! There had been a few days in between where she could have requested…

Straightening, he squared his shoulders and entered the room. Lewis, Vivi, and Kay hovered around the second bed. The attendant Dib had requested was checking Teles' vitals, but there wasn't much to be done with that muzzle in the way.

Dib could feel Lewis' glare drilling him but he refused to meet Lewis' eyes. He crossed the room, fitting his finger in the muzzle's printlock before Lewis could speak. Swinging it open, he eased it away from Teles' head and snapped it shut again, dropping it to the ground and kicking it off to the corner. Reaching for Kay's muzzle, he did the same.

"I'm going to the kitchen," he said, quietly. "I want a meeting in three hours."

"What for?" Lewis rumbled.

"By then I'll know," Dib answered, turning on his heel and leaving. "Mr. Pepper will be in shortly with some food. Kay, I trust you will keep your voice to yourself in his presence."

He didn't wait for a response, instead making a beeline for the ghost mansion kitchen. The floor creaked under his step and each doorway crowded in closer than usual. He stopped at the kitchen's open door, an unexpected tremor in his voice as he said, "Tell me you saw your wife eat something-anything at all-in the first few days you all landed here."

Timothy lifted his head from the pot he was stirring, his mouth set in a grim line, and shook his head.

Dib pulled a stool out from under the center island and sat, his chin resting on the back of his fist. "She needs food and water. She hasn't been eating."

"I know what starvation looks like, doctor." Timothy dropped a few cubes of something in the pot. One glanced off the lip, falling to the ground, but he didn't stop.

Dib's mind raced back to those few days when he'd brokered the deal to obtain Mr. and Mrs. Pepper from custody. He would always remove the muzzle and leave her in a cell with food after tests, but aides reported the food untouched when they retrieved her for another session. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Nobody was." Timothy jerked a ladle around the pot, splashing drops on the stovetop. "Honest truth is nobody cared because she's in the wrong always, right? She kept secrets and made terrible choices and tried to kill one of our daughters. So of course she can just take care of herself." He yanked open a cupboard, a cascade of hastily crammed-in potware clattering to the counter and floor. Seizing a smaller, more portable pot, he began ladling liquid from the larger pot to the smaller one. "And I can just focus on my cooking and you can focus just on Kay and Arthur and Lewis can focus on I don't know what and Vivi is doing gods knows what and nobody remembers Teles needs to eat."

His voice dropped lower. "She is your wife, Timothy. She's sick, body and mind. You don't have to trust her to take care of her. You don't have to put your children in her care to help."

Dib said nothing, fairly certain the last part had been a private thought.

Louder, Timothy declared, "I'm going in there with broth. Take off the muzzle, doctor."

"Already done," Dib replied. "No more muzzles."

Jerking his head once, Timothy left the kitchen. Dib folded his arms flat on the countertop and dropped his forehead on them.

Unbidden, a soft yellow face flashed through his mind and he groaned, trying to wrench his thoughts back. He needed to focus on the situation at hand. No use thinking about yet another person he was a disappointment to.

….

Timothy kept his arms wrapped around the small pot. He didn't want to fumble the soup before he got there and he didn't have the focus to keep his hands from shaking now. He was probably saying every single solitary thought out loud too, judging from the sidelong glances he got from guards stationed at the vault entrance.

His wedding band scraped against the pot. The band he didn't remember receiving from anyone. Just like the two children he didn't know he had, and the other two he didn't know how he got. A sad voice from the kitchen pantry would talk to him, tell him tales of cookie baking mishaps and swim days in the backyard while he made meals for the doctor and the rest of the team. Days when Lewis was alive and they were, if not completely happy, at least a workable family unit. It was like hearing about someone else's life.

He entered the medbay and there she was. The cause of half his problems lying next to the cause of the other half. Blankets had been piled haphazardly on her bed and Lewis sat at the edge, his hands aflame and held close to her body. The attendant finished inserting an IV in Teles' arm and glanced up.

"Broth," he tried to say. "It's just broth. Easy on the stomach and it'll help with the dehydration too. I know how this works, but I don't know why I know." The attendant stepped aside, as did Lewis, leaving him space to sit.

Removing the lid, he took the ladle in his hand. He'd barely lifted it clear of the broth before he lost half of it to tremors.

"Dad," Lewis began. "Do you want me to-"

"No thank you, Lewis, she is my wife and I will do this."

He took a long, slow breath in through his nose, releasing it through his mouth. He focused on his arm, ignoring his mouth and whatever might ramble out of it. He pictured each finger curling around the handle of the ladle, saw the elbow swing slowly, the wrist an unmoving joint as he brought the ladle out. Drops ran down the sides of the ladle, but it was just overflow. Carefully, he brought the edge to Teles' lips.

Lewis reached over, carefully squeezing her jaw, which opened to receive the broth. Timothy winced at the pinkish teeth. He tipped a few drops into her mouth, then pulled back, allowing her natural reflexes to take over. Once she had swallowed, it began again. Lewis and Timothy worked together, slowly draining one ladle down her throat.

Timothy returned the ladle to the pot and lidded it. Too much and she would bring it back up. He handed the pot to Lewis. If he could keep the soup warm, they could try for another ladleful in an hour.

Kay took his hand and Timothy squeezed hers, pulling her close. He'd do better. He wasn't going to wait around to be fixed any longer. Even if he didn't have all the pieces, he could pick up and move forward too.

….

A small hand on his arm pulled Dib abruptly from his murky thoughts. Dulcie had pulled up a stool next to him, concern creasing her face.

"I thought you were in your room," Dib muttered.

She shook her head. "I come here a lot. I watch Daddy from inside the pantry. Sometimes I tell him stories about the kind of Daddy he was and hand him stuff he needs."

Dib glanced where she indicated. It looked like a solid wall with a little peephole and a slot below where items could be passed through. Lewis' design, no doubt, thoroughly protecting Dulcie while allowing for interaction.

"I stop when Mom is there. I don't want to be near her, so Daddy and I pretend I'm not here."

It wasn't the confession as much as the guilt in her tone that caught his attention. "Well. If you've been there this whole time, you know what's happening. What do you think?"

She looked down at the countertop. "I don't know what to think. I don't want to think about her. Arthur's not even my brother, and he and everybody else tried harder than her. Maybe she loved Kay and Aji, but not me."

Studying her, Dib asked, "So do you think what just happened serves her right?"

Dulcie turned her head away quickly. "I don't wanna think that. It's a bad thing to think."

Dib's mouth crooked at the corner. "Hey Dulcie. Guess what."

"What?"

"I think that all the time."

Dulcie peeked at him out of the corner of her eye.

Dib nodded. "Yeah. My Dad really didn't care. Like, he created robots to stay home and feed us, teach us how to dress, and make sure we were out the door for school. Later he pared it down to just the feeding robots once we got the other stuff down ourselves." He lifted his index finger. "Family night was once a year, and he teleconferenced his work the entire time. Every year."

He had Dulcie's attention now, but the next words were harder to speak. He hadn't had to say this for a long time, now, and the hurt had crusted over nicely. He found his lips moving without sound. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Everyone always thought I was crazy. And my Dad… he always sided with them." Professor Membrane's words echoed in his head as Dib repeated his father's disappointed diagnoses. "'My poor, insane son.' Even allowed me to be sent off to the Crazy House For Boys once." His lips curled. "He could have said something to stop it, but he just nodded his head with the rest of his colleagues. He didn't even care enough to make that effort."

He shook himself roughly, straightening his sleeves. "So when the bastard finally got blown to bits by one of his experiments, yeah. I thought it served him right." He froze, wincing. "Sorry. Don't tell your brother I swore in front of you."

Dulcie gave him a weak smile. Dib returned to inspecting his sleeves. "So, yeah. Maybe there's a little accidental comeuppance and I don't think you're bad to think that. But that doesn't put _me_ in the right here. And Mrs. P doesn't sound like my Dad, either. If anything, while he was neglectful, she was sick. And even in her sickness, she tried to keep you from the worst hurt that was coming your way no matter what."

Bile collected in the back of his throat. "And she tried to keep everyone integrated into human society, quiet and safe as possible. Until some dummy came along with something to prove. Always something to prove. The only time I get any damn proof is when some non malignant creature falls into my lap." He buried his face in his arms. "The only malicious creature I ever really found was too stupid to hide and too smart to get caught, and he's long gone."

"Dr. Dib?"

He raised his head to meet her solemn blue eyes.

"What were you gonna do with my Mom and Dad? The first time."

He forced himself to maintain eye contact. "I was supposed to find out the military uses of your mom's voice. We ordered her to make your dad destroy a specific target—she picked which one and what color—and then to forget. A subconscious… a trigger that could be put there for a lot of people all at once. That was only the first step in research, but that's as far as we got."

"And what are you gonna do with us now?"

Dib exhaled slowly, letting the weight of those words settle. What _was_ he going to do with them? As it stood, they were nothing but a steady drain of resources with no end in sight. His funds were frozen over the city-wide evac they'd just pulled and what money he had set aside wouldn't see them through the month. He had to convince the trust fund committee they could turn some profit off this project. He had to convince his government connections that, whatever the properties of Mrs. Pepper's voice, they were solely hers and not genetically transmitted to her children. He had to prove alternate benefits to her voice so she wouldn't be used as a weapon.

Those were things he _had_ to do. But what did he _want_ to do?

They were a pain in the neck, but they never gave up and kept clinging to each other. He wanted to help. He wanted to fix the mess he'd made of Mr. Pepper's brain. He wanted to give Mrs. Pepper a shot at redeeming herself. He wanted Arthur to get off his ass and do something about that dumb puppy look he had all the time.

He glanced at Dulcie, still waiting for Dib to answer her question. "You know, I had a friend, once. She really stuck out in a crowd and once I figured out she really didn't mean any harm, I made it my job to help her fit in enough to survive on her own out there. Y'know. Among all the humans." He steepled his fingers, frowning over them. "Aside from grand acts of idiocy, your family isn't dangerous. Not intentionally. So what am I gonna do with you? I'm gonna figure out how you can go home and live mostly normal lives."

….

 **Note:** Up to this point any references Dib made were based in canon events. I will note that the friend he refers to in this chapter is not canon to the Zim universe. I reference it because this version of Dib is from another fic I wrote called **Being Human**. Characters from that story will not be featured here, but his recollections of an old friend should be familiar to people who have read that account, and are now helpful to give him a conscientious touchstone. Chapter title excerpted from I'll Keep Your Secrets by Trans Siberian Orchestra.


	18. And I Will Change My Ways

Dulcie marched into the mansion, waving her arms and shouting, "Hey, Deadbeats! Can I get some help?"

One swooped down from the ceiling, curling around her neck and nuzzling her cheek with a chirrup. She giggled, her tension leaking away. "You're a sneak. I gotta find Chloe and Mr. Lance, can you help?"

It piped twice and slithered off, slowly winding its way upstairs and checking to be sure she followed. As she passed the door to her room, she paused. "Hang on a minute!" she called, poking her head through.

The plant had wound itself down and around the mop bucket. It bristled with vibrant green leaves and here and there Dulcie could see tiny green tomatoes. A clunky robot bee rested at the base of the plant, its wings still but its eyes swiveling around, scanning for further blossoms.

"So close. Keep up the good work, bee!" She hurried to catch up with the Deadbeat, who led her to a theater. A girl onscreen with floor-length blond hair was just yelling, "Moon prism power!" and, in the front row, Chloe reared up on her back legs, echoing phrase with gusto. Sparks flew from her horn, scattering around the room and lighting up dark corners like fireflies.

"Chloe!" Dulcie called. "Group meeting! We gotta get Mr. Lance and go to the hospital room!"

Chloe dropped back down, sheepishly pawing the carpet. "Ah, imouto. I was just, ah. Yes, of course. Let's go."

"Don't be embarrassed, that was beautiful!" Dulcie crowed. "What do you call it?"

"What? That? Nothing, nothing at all." Chloe knelt, waiting for Dulcie to climb up. "I don't know what it is or what I'm doing. Just trying to make magic happen and see what works."

"You'll figure it out. Dr. Dib can probably help."

Chloe snorted. "He doesn't have time. Plus he's scared of me."

"Naw, who'd be scared of you?" Dulcie leaned over Chloe's withers and wrapped her arms around the neck. "You're a magical unicorn princess. Only bad people should be scared of you."

Chloe craned her head around. "Do you think Dr. Dib is a bad person?"

"No. I think he's just scared 'cause he didn't expect something this magical. Sounds like he's more used to aliens and space stuff. Sometimes ghosts and demons."

Chloe's flank shivered. "There's something about him that never feels quite right, but it never feels quite wrong either. I hope you're right about him."

Dulcie wrapped strands of mane around her fingers, locking her knees in place. "I'm pretty sure. He's gonna make some big announcement when we're all together. Let's go get Mr. Lance."

…

"Kay?"

Her eyes flicked up to Lewis. He was watching her, skull-faced. Why did he have to look like that?

"Kay. Talons."

Wincing, she unwrapped her fingers from the plastic siderail to her mom's bed, hiding her hands behind her back. Dad glanced up, but she forced a smile, mouthing, "I'm fine." He didn't need her angst, not with Mom to deal with.

"Hey, Vee, could you keep an eye on things here for a couple minutes?" Lewis murmured.

"Yeah. Go on, Lew. I've got it."

A warm hand on her shoulder, tugging her back. "You, me, out in the hallway for a sec?"

Her shoulders knotted tighter under his hand, but she turned and led the way out. Lewis closed the door behind them. Better shut him down now.

"I'm fine. This isn't necessary."

"What is it you think isn't necessary?"

"The big brother talk in the hall." She focused on her hands, trying to pull the talons back in. "That's what this is, isn't it? Save it."

"Why?"

"Because I don't need it. Mom just dropped, Dad's scrambled, and Dulcie's still practically outcast in our family because she can't be around Dad without a shroud. If you need to dispense reassuring words, I'm sure Vivi could use them. I've got Arthur covered, so everything's great. We done now?"

"Kay—"

"No." She clenched her fists behind her back. "Don't want to talk about it."

Lewis' hair roiled, his eyes narrowing to burning slits. "That's what we always did! We couldn't talk about things! Everything was a secret all the time. It's different now!"

"You bet it's different!" Kay snapped. "We invited a scientist and who knows how many of his workers into the very thing we were supposed to keep to ourselves. Now we're all his playthings. Lab rats. Right? Because you and Vivi couldn't handle things."

Lewis' head tilted to the side, his fingers clenching and unclenching. "You're telling me you could have done better?"

"How am I supposed to know? I was dead and out of my mind!" Her arms whipped around to cross in front of her. She gripped her arms, hunching her shoulders. "I was dead. Now I'm back. Last thing I knew, we were going to fight a demon, and now…" She shut her mouth. Now she was expected to swallow that her sister was her murderer and also her savior, that the demon was permanently part of Arthur, and that their family's best kept secret was up for grabs. She slid to the floor. "I'm done. I don't want to talk."

Slowly, Lewis sat down across from her. "That's usually not the case between us. Mind if I change the scenery?"

Beneath him, pink flames rose from the ground, twisting into thick, forked branches. Kay started as similar branches formed beneath her, lifting her a couple feet off the ground.

"Stop!" She scrambled out of the branches as they fizzled away. "This isn't my tree, and this isn't outside, and Lewis can't make things just appear out of nowhere!"

He froze. Kay clapped a hand over her mouth, breathing heavily. "I'm… I'm sorry." Her words came slowly through her fingers. "Of course you can. You're dead. You're… you've been dead for… you're a ghost, of course you can…"

Silent, Lewis crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. She felt the warmth and a hint of pressure, but it was the warmth of a softly burning fire—not the touch of skin on skin. She laid her head on his shoulder, her breath hitching. "It's too much. All at once."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the appearance of skin stretch out over the side of Lewis' face. By the time she pulled away, his features had softened to a more human appearance. He said nothing, but took her hand and squeezed it gently.

She squeezed back, then tilted her head toward the door. "We should get back to it, though."

His eyes rounded with concern.

"I'll be fine, Lew." She twisted the doorknob. "At least, I'll manage. Like you."

…

 _Nervous. Wary. Unused to speaking to yourself on anything other than antagonistic terms._

Yet here we are. We're asleep so often, might as well use the time for something productive.

 _I question the productivity of speaking to myself. In some circles this is considered a sign of insanity._

You're hilarious, but we don't have a lot of time.

 _Our time can be measured in weeks, now._

Not even months, huh?

 _It grows ever shorter._

Didn't we hear something about a chance Dulcie had for us?

 _Don't count on it. The disappointment would be too costly. Why do we want to talk? I thought we agreed we were supposed to rest the mind._

That was when we were blended. Thinking is about all we can do right now, so may as well make use of the time we have left.

 _You are so calm about it._

And you're terrified. The Shiker never really counted on death, did he?

 _No. I… he didn't._

Death was always in the cards for me. And ever since I got tangled up in this mess it's been hanging a lot closer than usual. It's not as scary as it used to be.

 _You say that, but you are sad. Sad for the Lance and the firstborn especially._

Yeah. Well. Uncle Lance has his shop and Kay's got a family to rebuild. She'll find someone... Look, enough about death. What do we know and what do we have?

 _We have two hands again. The arm wasn't complete before. The tall one with the silly jacket left it. Did he finish it?_

That would be my guess. Or maybe he has a mechanically minded goon. I don't trust him.

 _He reeks of envy. That is dangerous._

We'll watch him. What about the fox?

 _No scent of it. It's long gone._

And you're sure it wasn't a pack member?

 _It's impossible. This fox smelled different. And I know that I… the Shiker killed them all._

Is it possible another was created or birthed that you didn't know about?

 _Created, and I allow that it is possible. Highly unlikely, but possible._

But it would have smelled the same as you?

 _Yes, and it did not. Therefore it could not be made by Mother._

Still, there was something odd about it. We'll ask the others who saw it last where it is.

 _Agreed._

But I want to know more. You behaved different before. You had me fully convinced you would kill everyone once you were through with me. Was it an act?

 _It is complicated. If I really am your mind, then I had to be as thoroughly convinced as you that the only way to survive was to plunge headlong through this madness. And the only way you would keep going was not for yourself, but for the others._

You say "If" you really are my mind. Are you?

 _Is it not enough to want to be Arthur?_

Tell me more about how, why.

 _The biological matter left within your body has further effect than mere shapeshifting. Your original cells have incorporated the intruding cells in an effort to accommodate the permanent intrusion. You can feed off of emotional states now, too._

There will be no soul sucking.

 _So crass. There is a difference. You have already been feeding off the love surrounding you, love that was freely given to a state of overflow. This is no theft, no tearing of the natural state of things. It is taking what is freely offered. That is a function a kitsune is created with, though of course we can siphon off too much or take what has not been given or, even, force a shattered state of being to absorb the entire essence of the person._

So the soul sucking is just a perversion of your ability.

 _You may say so. You may also say a consequence of this ability is a change in attitude and behavior._

Don't tell me you were won over by the power of love.

 _Again, crass. Trite. You joke because it is a cliché to you, something that could not have immediate effects in your biological state as a human. But it is an inherent fact of a kitsune's organic makeup and no joke at all to us. Like how eating the correct foods fuels your growing body to become stronger, so a kitsune absorbs the excess of emotion that is offered us and is changed._

 _There is silence in the mind, but I sense your question growing. Do not ask. I will not speak to you of why the Shiker came to be over what he was intended to be. I will not tell you what was done. Neither of us could bear the pain. You must not be allowed this comprehension. We are barely surviving as it is._

 _It is enough to know that your soul may receive direct healing from those around you, and not just through siren song. And it is enough of an answer to tell you that, yes, it has effected changes in how I operate as part of you._

"Artie?"

Arthur nearly choked on sorrow and hope, mingled with the smell of stale grease and hot tires. He lifted his hands, feeling for his uncle before his eyes even opened. A stubby-fingered hand gripped his. A hard grip from a hand accustomed to employing more tools than handshakes. He opened his eyes, squinting through the fluorescent lighting.

"Oh, Artie. Is it you? Kid said she heard you were better…"

Arthur smiled, his lips cracking as he did. He patted Lance's hand, nodding carefully.

"You know me?"

Arthur lifted his hands, carefully spelling out his response.

"Ah crap. Artie, I don't have my glasses. Doc promised a special pair to translate, but I left 'em. I was too excited."

"He said 'Hi Uncle Lance.'"

Arthur jerked, surprised by Dulcie's presence on his other side. She smiled, poking his head right near the hairclip. "See you got my present. Still bein' brave?"

Swallowing hard, he nodded.

"Good. 'Cause we're not done and neither are you." She leaned in, whispering, "Persephone gave me tomatoes. Almost ready."

Arthur's eyes widened, but before he could ask, the door to the medbay swung open.

Dib entered, his head bent and his hands behind his back. He glanced up for a moment, muttering, "Everyone's here. Good."

For the first time, Arthur realized how cramped the medbay had become. Mrs. Pepper lay in the neighboring bed, flanked by Lewis, Vivi, Mr. Pepper, and Kay. Chloe and Dulcie had wedged themselves in near Arthur while Uncle Lance took a bracing stance between Dib and Arthur's bed.

Dib straightened himself and Arthur caught another whiff of a deep, untended jealousy and a bristling dread.

He cleared his throat, straightening his gloves. "So, it's no secret I've let some things—people—slip through the cracks around here. Some of you have been waiting for me to talk to you about your situation for days while others didn't even get to eat. Obviously this has always been too large for me to handle myself, and whether you have noticed it or not, I am quite understaffed for a delicate situation like this. Therefore, I am enlisting your help."

He pointed at Mr. Pepper and Lewis. "I need you two to nurse Mrs. Pepper back to health and split cooking duties. Can you take charge of that?"

Mr. Pepper nodded, murmuring, "Does he know that Kay cooks too?"

Dib paused. "No, I didn't. Should have expected it with the restaurant business. Can you pitch in too, Kay?"

She nodded and Dib continued. "Mr. Pepper, I need you to talk out whatever it is you need to talk out with your wife, too. She couldn't ask for help, but she could have written someone that she needed food and water. Why she didn't is a question I want answered. There's obviously a few things beyond my screwup to account for."

He turned to Arthur. "I need Kay primarily with Arthur, that much is obvious. Stability is key. Dulcie," He stretched out a hand to her, and she scampered around the bed to take it. "Think you can manage tomato control? I'll leave up to you when it's ready to give to him." She nodded firmly, and he let go. "Chloe, it would be good if you could team up with Dulcie and see if there's anything you can do to accelerate or complement the healing."

"Mr. Kingsmen." Dib folded his arms. "I'm going to need you to monitor your nephew."

Lance raised a bushy eyebrow. "An' by that ye mean…?"

"I mean you analyze every word he signs or says and every decision he makes. You make absolutely sure that it is Arthur who is speaking and acting, and that his decisions are sound. I will be ordering my staff to take direction on your word alone."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. What was he getting at?

"Why the big kerfluffle over this now?" Lance growled. "An' why put me in charge'a yer staff?"

"Because Arthur is about to be in charge of me," Dib said, his words clipped. "He will be analyzing all collected data. It's high time we run tests on the human brain under the effect of a siren's voice, and as soon as Mrs. Pepper has recovered, we are going to do just that. To that end, I will need you, Vivi, closer to me. Your job will be to monitor my state and halt proceedings if you see I can not hold up under the testing."

…

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from The Cave by Mumford and Sons.


	19. Some Things To Myself

_"Why?"_

 _All eyes in the room are on you now. Fresh tension crackles in the air-you have spoken-but it must be asked. "Why test on yourself?"_

 _"Well we sure as hell can't test on you." Dib shakes his head. "Your body and brain are so heavily modded now that it's impossible to draw accurate conclusions for the human species."_

Dib was right but it stung Arthur to hear it from someone else. He wasn't human anymore. Not really.

"Yeah, but I'm sure I could—" Vivi began.

Dib cut her off. "The day we need to research what the effects of possession under mutual consent are, I'll ring you. Until then, I have to assume Lewis' presence has—from your own stories—modified aspects of your brain. As a test subject you are contaminated. I won't be able to tell what was Lewis and what's an effect of the siren voice."

Lance shifted, uneasy, but Dib pre-empted him. "Save it. I've caused you enough grief. And running any of my staff through this, well. Half of them are idiots and the rest are jerks, but it's not what they signed up for."

 _Traces of guilt. Regret. You cannot see his eyes, but you wonder if he's watching Mr. Pepper. You wonder if exposure to his own test subject on a daily basis woke a conscience._

"Besides, if anybody else has to fall for a siren, best it's someone who's used to dealing with disappointment." Dib cracked a wry grin. It vanished as quickly as it appeared. "I will be relying on you, Lewis, and you, Arthur, to provide your own prior experiences from your purely human states and draw conclusions based on effects on Mr. Pepper and myself. Understood?"

Unsure how else to respond, Arthur nodded. Around the room, reluctant agreement formed in averted eyes and solemn nods.

"Good." Dib tugged his trenchcoat tight, heading for the door. "Now, until I am needed I will be in my lab. See to Mrs. Pepper's recovery."

Arthur closed his eyes again, turning Dib's words over in his mind. Guilt was a powerful motivator, but Arthur wasn't willing to bet their situation was the only thing weighing in on Dib's decision. However, he was willing to vouch for the man's sincerity. It was muddled with conflicting emotions, granted, but he couldn't smell anything that indicated an underhanded plan.

"Dad, are you trying to say something?" Lewis hedged.

A strained grunt was his only reply, and Arthur risked another look over. Sure enough, Mr. Pepper sat on the edge of Mrs. Pepper's bed, staring right back. His eyes bulged and a flush crept up his neck as he groaned, but no words formed.

 _You sigh. There aren't many things Mr. Pepper would want from you. "If you are trying to demand your memories back," you mutter, "it can't be done. The Puppet was far too new at stripping memories to have a prayer of holding them separate within himself. There is no way to disengage them now."_

 _"There's no way at all?" Lewis pushes. You wonder if you would be irritated at this if the exhaustion weren't already closing in._

 _"We ripped the memories from his brain. If you ever wondered how you learned to do that to Vivi, well. You spent a long time watching the Shiker. Unlike you, however, we no longer have the luxury of swimming about in someone else's body. We are bound to this one."_

 _"But Mystery went into Arthur's mind without possessing him," Vivi insists._

 _"If I wanted to dive into someone else's mind of course I could, and perhaps things would be different if the Puppet had been able to hold those memories separate—"_

 _You cut off, glancing down. Your hands are signing_ **I'm sorry** _over and over. Squaring your jaw, you continue. "He tried. But the second he lost focus I absorbed them. They were a distraction and it was more important that we survive. I do not apologize for keeping us alive."_

 _A huge, bone-plated hand stills your hands, covering them. Gentle, not a touch simmering with heat. "Why does Dad still know Kay and me?" Lewis asks._

Arthur's throat constricted. He could still feel the warmth leaving Kay's body, her blood staining his shirt. He wiped his left hand against the sheets, unable to meet Lewis' eyes.

 _"Further memories of you would have incapacitated the Puppet," you answer, weary to your bones. "We could not bear further grief and still carry out the plan." You turn your head to the youngest Pepper child. She flinches. She knows who speaks; the one that dragged her to her fate._

 _You tilt your head to the side. "I cannot apologize for what I did. The Puppet was right, this was the only way. But we regret the fear we caused you."_

A thought nagged Arthur. His thoughts were fuzzy and he could feel himself slipping back into sleep, but he shook himself. There was a to do, here. Something he could do. What was it?

 _Tired, Puppet. Please._

No. It's Dulcie. Something… Dulcie. Memories, right? Connection, memories.

 _Your thoughts are too jumbled. Just come back to it later._

Memories. Memories. Memories. Mr. Pepper. No memories. No Dulcie. No Mrs. Pepper. No… no memories…

 _Oh. Puppet._

 _You lunge up, seizing the sheet wrapped around Dulcie's head. "Hey Mr. Pepper, look!" You tear it from her head, and her pink curls come tumbling around her shoulders._

Shock rippled through the room, freezing everyone for a split second. Then Lewis stepped into Mr. Pepper's line of sight, blocking him. Dulcie dove under Arthur's bed as Chloe gnashed her teeth in Arthur's face.

"I saw!" Mr. Pepper gasped. "They said I would hurt her if I saw her hair, but nothing happened!"

Arthur laughed as he sank back against the pillows, allowing the darkness to take him.

 _"Clever, clever Puppet. Always with the loopholes. No memory of the conditioning, no memory of the trigger, no memory… no danger of attack."_

…..

"No danger of attack."

It made more than enough sense. Timothy stared down at his hands, trembling, but not dealing the sort of death he'd been warned was wired into his subconscious. Nausea, not rage, swirled in his stomach. The mental shift only took a second. If the loss of his memory allowed for Dulcie's immediate safety, then it was a loss he was willing to accept.

He lifted his eyes again. Lewis blocked his line of sight, arms stretched wide, watching him narrowly. Timothy set the soup aside, focusing each word in his mind and sending it with care to his mouth. "I want to see her."

Lewis glanced over his shoulder and back to Timothy. Speaking worked this time, but with focus redirected to his words, Timothy's arms began to shake again. "Lewis. You and Kay are strong, you stop me if it's unsafe."

Kay's arm looped through his and he leaned on her to stand. Lewis' hand came down firmly on his shoulder as he passed, the grip reassuring. Kay tightened her hold on his arm as well. Even if Arthur was mistaken, there would be no violence done.

Steeling himself, Timothy lifted his head. She stood on the other side of Arthur's bed, fingers wrapped in Chloe's mane.

Eyes so blue. Watching. Wary. Lips parted, slightly. Pink curls falling in mounds around her shoulders.

Nothing. He felt nothing at all. Carefully, he lowered to his knees, calling, "Dulcie?"

She crept around the end of the bed, Chloe following close behind.

He stretched out a trembling hand to her. Her fingertips met his, hesitantly, then she wrapped her hands around his, stilling them.

A warmth filled his chest. He wasn't a murderer. He would never hurt her. He squeezed her hands, choosing his words carefully. "I'm sorry. I hoped I could get my memories back, but there's an upside to letting go." He hesitated, then ventured, "Maybe now we could start over? No more of you hiding from me and me avoiding you?"

Dulcie bit her lip, squeezing his hands painfully tight. "I'd like that."

…..

"This is the stupidest thing you've ever done. I hope you know that."

Dib kicked a rock, watching it spin through the dust and bounce off the base of a larger boulder. His shoulders sagged as he continued the self-recrimination.

"Stupider than trusting Dwicky. Stupider than thinking Dad would finally see you. Just… stupid."

He followed the rock to the boulder, seating himself. For the first time in many years the lab walls had closed in on him, the air stifling with the smell of sterility. Topside offered him space and solitude, if not comfort.

"Literally handing control over to every sort of supernatural creature you swore to protect the planet from and turning yourself into the test subject? How backwards can you get, Membrane? What's next, blasting our planetary coordinates into deep space and screaming, 'Hey! Come get us!' huh?"

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Why am I doing this, huh, Arthur? Well. Researcher gets lonely and lonely gets stupid. Now stupid can only hope his assessment of trust placement is right for once. If not…" he scratched his neck. "Well. Then it's someone else's turn to be protector of the Earth and take care of the mess this turns out to be. I'm tired."

The moon hung like a cockeyed grin in the sky, mocking him from behind the branches of a sunbleached tree. He scooped up the stone he'd kicked and hurled it at the tree, startling a prairie hawk into flight. It passed overhead, screeching accusation at him.

The world kept turning no matter how hard or how little he worked at understanding paranormal threats to its survival. Maybe it was okay to let go for a little while.

….

 **Note:** So, confession here. I recently looked up what I probably should have looked up from the start, which is how you write a character who uses ASL. And. Yeah. I have thoroughly misrepresented it. The problem is there really is no way to go back and fix or remove Arthur's need to sign at this point, it's too integral to the story as I've built it. So I'm going to have to keep going with the faulty version. If you use ASL and you are reading this, I apologize. It isn't a trait I am likely to use for future stories. Chapter title excerpted from Shake It Out by Florence + The Machine.


	20. Your Hands Are Mine To Hold

_Tart. At the very tip of the tongue a cool, sour tang drips, sliding back toward the throat. Pleasant and smooth and—_

 _Agony. We try to stop the juice but it is already down our throat. It is as though a thousand needles stab every square inch of flesh the liquid has touched. It is worse by far than waking a limb that's lost circulation. You gag, water eking out from the corners of your eyes. This is poison! Why is this happening? What are they doing to you?_

 _"Artie, you gotta stop! Don't fight!" Your forearms are gripped, held still. They are complicit in your murder! It was all an act, now they seek to be rid of you because of me!_

Tomato juice.

 _We are murdered, and you care what flavor the poison is?_

 _"C'mon Arthur, you gotta eat it. Persephone said!"_

 _Persephone. She…_

Sent Dulcie home with our remedy. Dulcie said Persephone gave her tomatoes.

 _Does it have to hurt this much?_

What is the difference in the tissue touched by the juice?

 _More elastic. Less prone to deterioration, but not fully restored._

We have only had a taste. We have to eat it all.

 _The pain will kill us! The mush of the tomato presses against your lips and you cry out, "No! I can't!" It is like red hot iron on our mouth. Have we not suffered enough?_

Kay. She can order us to eat it.

 _You cannot seriously think to beg the overriding of our will._

If it forces us to take the cure, yes. I want to live and I thought you did too.

 _"Please, Artie! This is what it takes! Lew, you gotta hold his mouth open."_

 _Your eyes shoot open and you roar at the hand coming toward you, "Do not for a moment believe I won't inhale your very essence,_ eldest son, _if you so much as touch me right now!"_

 _Just like that, Lewis vanishes from the room._

 _A hand grabs your chin-hairs and yanks your head around. Simmering blue fills your vision. "Are you dicing my onions? For real? We're trying to get you back on your feet and you threaten Lewis?"_

 _"Please, kid. It's killin' me to seeya like this." Lance is the one holding our hands still. His face is lined and there are bags under his eyes._

 _You narrow your eyes at Vivi, baring your teeth. "It hurts," you enunciate each word, the better to spit them at her. "We have had enough pain!"_

 _"I'd order you a heavy dose of morphine, but I'll wager it won't do much for you anymore." Dib put one hand over Vivi's and another on Lance's arm. "And that's doing nothing. Let go, would you? He's awake enough to reason."_

 _Your guts crawl with fire over the trickle they squeezed down your throat and you clasp your stomach, gritting your teeth. "Damn you all."_

 _"Damn you, actually, and you will be if you don't eat that thing." Dib's goggles reflect your strained expression. "So tell me what it would take for you to eat it."_

 _"It would take it not hurting!" You snarl._

What happened to wanting to live?

 _You want to live, but there is no strength to take this. You cannot conceive of facing it. You know it makes no sense, the pain of transformation was beyond comprehension too so why can you not take this to save your life? And yet it is as though facing the pain itself will be the last straw that will take your life here and now._

 _"Don't think that's going to happen. So, what about willpower to face the pain?" Dib crosses his arms across his chest, and yours constricts._

It's exactly what I was telling you. Let Kay give us the strength to face this.

 _You turn your face away, your snarl coming out more like a moan. But in this direction is the face of the youngest Pepper, still holding the tomato. Its skin is split, just barely, the juice running down her hand. It is not a perfectly round globe like those of Demeter's crop. It's an oblong, lumpy mass of red with the occasional orange splotch. Truly Persephone's touch._

 _"Still your turn to be brave, Arthur." She holds out the tomato, so hopeful._

 _You recoil, crying, "There is none left! I can't! Leave me in peace! Ungh!" You curl over, hands clamped to your stomach. You can still trace the trail the juice took from your tongue all the way down. Feel the particles permeating your intestines and entering your bloodstream. "Can't Chloe do something?"_

" _Bakaken, nothing I've ever tried has helped you, awake or asleep, since you've been more than just Arthur! Don't think that's changed, so no, Chloe can't 'do something'!"_

 _Your tongue has only begun to recover, but now your veins buzz. There is no escape. You can take no more of this!_

…

Lewis had warned Kay that his mansion was hard to navigate, but it had only taken a few tries with different doors to find a good room. The walls were lined with books from wall to wall and floor to ceiling, but a closer inspection showed the room was filled with the same few cookbooks, mangas, and diaries copied over and over. Lewis never had enjoyed reading as much as she did.

A grated fireplace broke shelf continuity, crackling with purple flame. She planted herself nearby, nestling in a beanbag to stare into the fire and try to process things.

Her fingertips traced across her neck, traveling from one side to the other and back again in ongoing rhythm. Aji was dead. There was nothing further to solve, there. Her mother was no longer her problem. Lewis was no enemy. But for Arthur… well, there was still a choice to make.

 _"He loved you before, you know. Finding you there and hearing you sing once more, it only cemented what was already there."_

He knew everything and was fully under her control, just as she had feared. But Arthur was not her father, right? She struggled to separate Arthur from the looming shadow of her parents' marriage.

"It's not that simple!" She clenched her fists, sinking deeper into the beanbag. She was responsible for Arthur now. Didn't her obligation nullify the whole choosing each other bit she always dreamed would happen? He didn't have a choice anymore, not with how she'd tied him to herself. And she… she had a choice, but if she chose someone else she might as well drive a knife through him. And if she chose someone else then who would watch to make sure his survival side didn't overtake him at the expense of others?

She kicked off her shoes, lifting her feet to the grate. The heat soothed her worries. She had time to sort this out. She watched the flames dance. Merge. Sway. Divide. Slowly devour the log down to the next one, and then again the next one. There was always one more log.

A flash of purple burst above the fireplace, sending two shelves of books flying. Lewis appeared, skull-faced, crouched on the mantelpiece and flickering like a candle in the wind.

Alarmed, Kay dug herself out of the beanbag. "That was some entrance. What's got you going?"

Lewis didn't speak, but the walls of the room began to cave inward, the fire licking out from the grate and climbing the shelves.

"Hey!" She reached up, stretching to her tiptoes to catch his face in her hands. Her flesh crawled at the feeling of bone, but she kept her hands still. "Lewis!"

He gripped her hands, rocking on his heels up there, nearly pulling her from her feet. His skull stayed solid but the rest of his body continued warping and guttering.

She opened her mouth, allowing one note out. The walls groaned to a stop, still bulging inward, and the fire no longer spread.

He was dead. She couldn't kill him and she couldn't command him. It was safe. From the back of her throat she offered their special song back to him, guiding him through whatever haunted him the way he had for her. She wove the notes around him, bolstering courage and smoothing over fear. The music within swept her along as she brought it around the bend, past the few opening notes she had known since childhood to the full piece Lewis had played to her only a few nights before. Such a rich melody, so full of grandeur and elegance that she could burst for the beauty of it.

The fire burned in its place in the hearth and Deadbeats carved charred bits out from the shelves, replacing scattered books along newly straightened walls. Hands on her face. Lewis stood in front of her, now, brushing tears from her cheeks.

"I haven't had time to tell you how beautiful your voice is. Or what a privilege it is to finally be able to hear it."

Kay gripped his wrists, leaning against his chest. What she wouldn't give to hear him play the violin again. It was the loveliest sound she had ever heard, but the song was still too thick in her throat to speak.

"Kay. Arthur needs you."

Kay opened and closed her mouth, swallowing back the sudden panic.

"I'm sorry. I know you wanted space and time, but we can heal him now and the other him is kicking up a fight."

She wasn't ready. She couldn't face him again until she knew for sure what she was going to do. She hid her face against his chest.

Lewis' arms came up around her. Safety. Protection. Consolation. His arms were so large. She wondered if this was what it felt like to be held in wings.

"What's got you going, Kay?"

She bit her lip, trying to keep her voice steady. "Do. Do you think. We even have a choice? Him or me?"

He was silent, holding her as he pondered her question. He would understand the implications. It was why he had been angry to begin with.

"Do you like him, Kay? Does he make you happy?"

The way he lit up whenever she came to visit the shop. The extra care he would take for her weird "preferences." The dogged pursuit of solutions. The tender touch he always had for her. The way he bent himself around her commands to come back to her.

"I like him _and_ I love him."

Lewis lifted her chin. "You have to believe me about this, Kay. He's been mad for you longer than he knew you were a siren. I knew he was ga-ga for someone before he told me who. Vee and I watched him get goofier about it all the time. I…" he hesitated. "I was just. Afraid. And angry. I'm sorry."

She squeezed his hand.

"You make him happy. You did before and now you can do it with laser precision. He's proved he can't be killed by a song anymore." He squared his shoulders, measuring words out. "You can make each other happy, Kay. I know it. The fact that he needs you doesn't lessen that."

Swallowing again, she straightened herself, nodding.

"Will you come?" Lewis pleaded.

Again, she nodded, following him as he led the way out of his mansion. She passed through the vault and into the sterile halls, trying to hold onto Lewis' words. The medbay door opened and two aides wheeled her mom's bed out. Her dad, supported by Vivi, followed close behind, sparing a hollow glance for Kay.

Dib appeared in the doorway, a grim expression on his face. "Good. Kay. Do you think you'll be able to convince him to take his cure?"

Gripping her left arm, she managed, "I'll try."

"I'll take that. Lance!" He yelled over his shoulder. "You and I have to evac too. Can't afford the song and dance routine."

Lance followed Dib out, pausing long enough to take Kay's hands. His eyes glistened as he rasped, "Please help 'im. Seems you're the only one who can."

Dib held the door closed. "Dulcie's there as the fruit-bearer, don't try and take over that. Chloe is there to make sure Dulcie doesn't get hurt. Everything is on a feed to my screens, so I'll be watching if you need backup. Lewis, you might wanna…"

Lewis nodded, hunching his shoulders. "I can't go in there with the other one like this. He… threatened things."

Kay took a deep breath, laying a hand on Lewis' arm. "Thank you."

He nodded once, then Dib swung the door open.

Arthur's bed was empty, the wires and tubes hanging limp. He crouched in the corner of the room, the sheet tangled around his body. His skin was like chalk, his nails darker and longer than usual, and his snarl revealed a mouth full of pointed teeth. Chloe stood between him and Dulcie, her ears laid back and her lips flapping aggressively.

The door closed loudly and all eyes turned to her.

The snarl stilled, his green eyes fixed on her as she crossed to him and crouched a few feet away. "Hi, Arthur."

He sucked in a breath, his mouth twisting around her name. "Cayenne. Please." Arthur crumpled in on himself, dragging his forehead across the ground.

She moved in close, pulling him up to lean back against her. This close she could see there were a few less lines in his face while here and there a blond hair showed through the gray.

"Please, Cayenne. It hurts." He whimpered, pressing back against her as if Chloe would charge.

She laid her cheek against the top of his head. "You know that to survive, you have to do this."

He threw back his head and wailed, his face wet and streaming with tears. "How many times?" he sobbed. "When do I stop having to do these things to survive?"

Sorrow choked her to silence. She bent her head and sealed her lips over his. His cries muffled and tapered off as his eyes widened. His lips were soft and warm. Hesitant. His fingers slid into her hair. This was not the touch of a thieving demon. It was all Arthur. Her Arthur.

When she felt she could speak again, she broke away, her nose still close enough to brush his. "I don't know when you have to stop, but you're not alone. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. And I need you here with me."

He took in a few ragged breaths. "Could. Could you help?"

She squeezed him gently. "I won't tell you what to do, but I'll give you what I can."

Trembling, he reached out a hand toward Chloe and Dulcie, gesturing to the tomato.

Dulcie stepped around Chloe, wiping her face. "I'm sorry. I gotta feed it to you. I don't wanna know what happens if I don't do it just like Persephone said."

Arthur's hand dropped and he opened his mouth, fresh tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes. From the stories she'd been told transpired during her death, Kay wove a melody of strength and endurance and a drive to move forward to carry him.

…..

Dib watched the scene unfold, silent, across the crystal screen on his arm. Vivi turned her face away as Arthur's body arched and Lance made a choked sound in his throat. Dulcie had brought all the tomatoes the plant had produced and it might well take all of them as Arthur spewed several across the floor.

With every bite he managed to swallow his skin tightened, his hair changed color, and he filled out his frame more. After the first dozen attempts, the writhing lessened and readouts indicated less audible distress from Arthur. He lay propped up against Kay, panting as he ate from Dulcie's hand.

Dib clenched his jaw, his temple pounding. All this proof of other worlds and creatures from them and he had tied his own hands about it. With something as simple as this recording, he could have all the resources and respect he ever—

"You've been a right arse," Lance said, keeping his eyes on the screen. "But lookat him comin' 'round. Ya got 'im a chance 'here. Thankee."

Dib said nothing, but released the tension in his jaw. It wasn't worth it. Not when they truly meant no harm to humanity. How much had humanity done for him and his efforts? Just for now, he allowed himself to entertain the possibility that he might want to earn the respect of this little band instead.

…..

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from Move Along by All American Rejects


	21. Ones That We Learned

Dib let the dirt filter through his fingers, watching it sift down to fill the little trench his fingers had made scooping it up.

As he had been unsuccessful in bugging Lewis' mansion in any way, he could only make a guess that the tomato plant's sudden withering coincided with Arthur's restoration. By the time Dib had gotten to it, the last of the vines disintegrated into fine gray powder. He wasn't sure how long he'd stayed there, stirring the dirt up and thinking through the situation.

Lucky for him, Persephone hadn't stipulated rules about the dirt restored to full richness by the tomato plant or the ashen remains of the vine. It was a far cry from what his facility was intended to research, but he'd suffer the indignity of being a mascot for revolutionized gardens and agriculture if he could reverse engineer a saleable product out of this bucket. That way, even if the siren research proved too dangerous, he could still have something to show the trust fund committee.

If he still had a functioning brain by then.

He grabbed the handle and towed it after him, aiming for his personal lab. It was increasingly difficult to keep his fear at bay. He no longer visited Mr. Pepper in the kitchen, sending Torque to fetch his meals instead. With the upcoming tests hanging over Dib's head, Timothy had become a horror to watch.

Lifting his wrist to his mouth, he called, "Vivi, Kay, Arthur. Find them. Direct them to my office. Lewis is not invited."

Dib settled in his split-leather rolling chair, snatching up a test tube to scoop some of the dirt. Breaking down the components was easy, something he could assign the computer to do. He kicked himself over to the back wall and set the tube in a wall compartment, then kicked himself back to the desk, calling up the notes that actually interested him.

He removed a glove and tapped his index finger twice on his desk. The surface lit up in warm blue with white lettering.

 **WELCOME DOCTOR MEMBRANE. |**

"Hey computer. Gimme Aji's private-record reconstruction. "

Between the photos and video of the autopsy, as well as details from all tissue, fluid, and bone samples, his computer had been able to construct a visual model of Aji's body and its functions.

A hesitant knock sounded at his door.

"Come in."

Arthur entered. Torque stood behind him in the doorway, sweating bullets.

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Torque?"

Torque cleared his throat. "The. Um. Skeleton didn't want me to wake Vivi. Kind of. Made that real clear."

"Where's Kay?"

Torque glanced at Arthur, shifting away from him. Rolling his eyes, Dib flicked his hand to dismiss Torque, who closed the door a little too loudly.

If one didn't peer too closely, Arthur's appearance finally matched his twenty two years. His hair was an orangey-yellow with thick sideburns running down his face and scraggly growth around the rest of his chin. He stood straight, his hands jammed into his pockets and there wasn't a wrinkle in sight. But his age lay in the grim line of his mouth, the crease between his eyebrows, and the hostility in his gaze.

"Kay is catching up with her father and sister," Arthur answered his question. "And I thought it was time you and I properly met."

Dib tilted his head. "You are absolutely correct, but I don't suspect we will properly meet until you start talking with your hands."

Arthur's jaw clenched. "I _am_ Arthur. How many times do I have to explain that?"

"Get used to it. The part of you that's talking may be you, but it's also _more_ than you and from what I've heard, that's reason enough to be on guard."

"And what's the point of talking around me?" His lips pulled back a little further than they should with each motion, revealing teeth. "We know each others' thoughts, we share all senses. I will know what you are saying."

"You don't share control, obviously, and I would wager a strong guess you don't share the same perception of the world or the situation at hand. If you did, there wouldn't be a need for two of you." Dib tugged on the cuff of his trench coat. "I would prefer to work with the version of you that has more humanity intact."

Arthur folded his arms, his head lowering a fraction and his eyes unfocusing. Dib could see his eyes changing color, green to brown to green and brown and back to green again. Internal argument, perhaps? All indications suggested the sides maintained high interaction. Arguments were not out of the realm of possibility.

The rigidity melted out of Arthur's posture as he raised his head. His shoulders drooped and he offered a tentative smile as he stuck his right hand out, his eyes a soft brown.

Exhaling slowly, Dib stood and reached across his desk to shake Arthur's hand. "Good to finally meet you, Arthur. I'm Doctor Membrane, but you can call me Dib."

…

Arthur shook Dib's hand, keeping his eyes on the doctor and cataloguing the stream of signals he was receiving from the man's scents and body language.

 _Relieved. High background anxiety with suppression damper, but it's not directed at you. You smelled it all the way down the hall to him. Still envious, but no treachery._

Dib led him around to stand behind the desk. A model of Aji splayed across the desk—the screen. The entire desk was a screen.

"I'd hoped I'd have Kay and Vivi here as well," Dib said. "Lewis reacted badly during the autopsy, hence his lack of invitation, but I suppose Vivi needs sleep. Kay?"

Arthur shrugged, uneasy. He didn't like being away from her, his own anxiety kicked up the farther he got from her, but she deserved a break. So did Dulcie, really.

In the direct aftermath of a booster like he'd had, a couple hours sleep sufficed to charge him up. The rejuvenation was complete at every physical level but his other half was running on high caution now, determined to keep it that way. Dib had been deemed a potential threat to that, a researcher holding more than a few cards over their heads.

He took a moment to remind himself that the very same researcher just volunteered to be a labrat so neither his Uncle or Vivi had to.

 **Other me was truthful. Wanted to talk alone. Kay needs time with family.**

Dib sighed. "Then I'll need you to break this down into SparkNotes for the rest of your team because I'd rather not have to explain again. I've found several things from the autopsy and the samples pulled from Aji. It's all fascinating, but I'm not sure which parts are useful. Perhaps you can help."

Dib sliced down the middle of the model with his fingers and splayed them apart. "Computer, hide skeletal structure." The model's skin parted accordingly to reveal the organs nestled in the chest and torso. "Computer, focus on respiratory system." Several organs became translucent, fading out as the lungs, trachea, and mouth came into sharp relief.

Dib tapped on the chest. "I removed her lungs for study. Ended up finding something wild enough that I ran comparisons to be sure." He glanced at Arthur. "Don't take this the wrong way. I know you're smart, but you're a mechanic. I'm going to simplify my findings so I'm not dropping a bunch of jargon on you."

Arthur dipped his head. No offense taken. Better to get the big picture than get snagged on terminology from another field.

"Basically, all organ tissue from lungs up the trachea to the tongue are so dense with nerve endings and muscle that Aji was able to control every aspect of them."

Arthur raised his eyebrow, squinting at Dib. So Sirens had great breath control, was that supposed to be news to him?

Shaking his head, Dib rested two fingers on the lungs. "You don't get it. As humans, we can control our lungs to the extent of breathing in and out and maybe we can train ourselves to hold more air or hold it longer if we work hard at it. We can control, to a certain extent, the speed of our breathing and how deep a breath we take." The lungs under his fingertips expanded and contracted in even rhythm. "But Aji? If she wanted?" He crunched his fingertips together and the lungs contracted to half their normal size, the lower portions abruptly folding up inside the upper half. "Could collapse her lungs intentionally for a blast of air. Or do this." He unfolded the lungs and drew a wiggly line down the side of one. The walls of the lung undulated with ripples.

Both of Arthur's eyebrows raised. Now _that_ was something.

"It wouldn't have much more effect than a controlled stiff breeze coming out of her for a couple of seconds, but combine that…" he left the lungs folded and traveled up the throat, expanding the view to focus on the vocal cords. "…with the fact that these can stretch. I was only working with dead tissue and I would have to verify with Kay or Teles—through imagery, not surgery—but I suspect they can control the shape of their vocal cords. Take that and combine it with the fact that the same dense network of muscle and nerves is woven into the walls of the trachea and the tongue."

It began to sink in.

"I'm not even sure they know how they're doing it, or that they're doing it at all. It may be just like Lewis' mansion, where he calls into reality what he needs without knowing how he does it or what makes it happen. But what they are doing—at least, my guess is—that they are manipulating the sound they make from beginning to end. They can create sound at wavelengths we can hear but have no hope of replicating. And whatever this wavelength is, it has severe consequences on the human brain."

 _Fear spiked on the last sentence. Voice is steady. He's thought about this a lot._

Arthur's head snapped up and he lifted his hands. **Problem. Once we stole Kay's voice. Then we could sing like that and Kay could not. And when we found her soul, it was silent until we returned her voice. If physical ability, then how?**

Dib fell silent, staring down at the model. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know enough about _your_ abilities to answer that yet. How were you able to steal it in the first place?"

 _Let me answer. It was not you that did this._

 _You retake control and shake yourself, clearing your throat. "The thief should answer for the crime, yes?" You grin as Dib tenses. "I merely meant to drive her mad, but I could feel an energy in her. It was not her soul, but so close as to nearly be part of it. Have you ever tasted a fruit so different from any fruit you've known that you have no comparison for it?" You close your eyes, reveling in the memory of it. "I tasted music itself and I stole it from her."_

 _Frustration tinges the air. "You say things like 'music itself' and 'energy' which isn't helpful here in my lab."_

 _"I am only telling you that I stole an energy from her. I am sure the physical structures in her throat and lungs remained intact."_

 _You pause. There is more, though. What is it, Puppet? My name?_

 _"Meynung Shiker, The Mind Drinker." Your eyes narrow. "Souls were the final objective, but taking those became easier once I had broken them. Break the soul by breaking the mind, bit by bit. Becomes easier by removing bits and pieces from the mind, ripping them free. Couldn't affect the soul until the mind was broken. This bit of Kay was not entirely soul and not entirely mind and—if you are to be believed—not entirely body."_

Arthur's brow furrowed. **Not an either/or. Her voice is a both/and. The laws and properties are full of gray areas.**

"Only gray as long as we aren't sure of their boundaries." Dib zoomed out, manipulating the model. "Wasn't so long ago that the empty spaces on the map had dragons and sea monsters on them. Supposedly we know better now, but we're encountering blank areas on the map. It will take a long time to fill in."

Arthur snorted. **Choppy waters here. Ship's taken a beating. Spice trade isn't worth it, captain.**

Dib's burst of laughter startled Arthur. It cut straight through the frustration and anxiety in the room, dispelling the worst of it like a swift breeze. "Yeah, well, I've come this far." He gestured, drawing Arthur's attention back down to the desk. The torso of the model had closed up, but one arm was flayed open onscreen. "Bone structure is the same as a human's, too, but the bones are more hollow."

 **Like a bird.**

"Like a bird. Unlike a bird, the bones are also made of much harder stuff. The fingerbones are a little larger to accommodate retractable talons, and see these?" Dib pointed to a series of sacs just under the skin. "These are under the surface of the skin all the way around from shoulder to fingers. I haven't figured out how, yet, but they must have something to do with the wings. I didn't find a single feather, though. I was wondering if you might have any theories about how they make the wings?"

Anxiety spiked, but not Dib's. Arthur reached for his other self and found only a mental fog, a thick barrier locking him out. He gave a grunt of frustration, signaling Dib. **I think other me knows something. Locked me out.**

"Define 'locked me out'."

 **Can't access his information or thoughts.**

"Interesting. Can you lock him out?"

Arthur paused, thinking. **Haven't tried but don't think so.**

"Hm. Also can we get a better name than 'other me'? It's confusing."

Calling it Shiker was out. If this truly was two sides of himself, he didn't want to undermine the tentative balance they'd struck by binding that half to a name it no longer wanted.

 **We'll think about it.**

Something nagged him about the wings, though. He ran the fingers of his prosthetic along his flesh arm, trying to recall a fragment he'd heard. Belatedly, he signed, **Thank you for finishing the prosthetic. Works like a charm.**

"You did most of the work. I just finished it up.."

Created works. Had sirens started out with flight?

Demeter's voice echoed in his head. _"I gave you all wings to search for her, and this is how you repaid me."_

Arthur turned and pointed to Dib's computer, making a typing motion. Dib moved out of the way and Arthur took the chair, opening up a browser and typing in a query.

 _Demeter, goddess of harvest and agriculture._

Arthur leaned back, the gears turning. **Hey Dib. Needs verification with Teles, but Demeter claimed she gave the sirens wings. What's goddess of harvest doing with that ability? It's almost like** his fingers faltered as he sucked in a breath. **Footage. Need footage of Kay feathering.**

"Computer, display records of Cayenne Pepper in plumage. Zoom in. Slow it down."

Prior sightings of the golden plumes emerge from Kay's skin had been awe-inspiring moments for Arthur. Now, as he watched them form and lengthen from her arms, a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Extending his real arm in front of Dib, he concentrated on one part of his arm. He forced the upper layer of his skin to reconfigure itself. A thin, scraggly orange feather emerged with knifelike pain, filling out as he involved lower layers of skin. As Kay retracted her feathers on screen—retracted. She'd never once shed a pile of feathers without violence being done to her—Arthur re-integrated the feather into his skin. He stared up at Dib without a word.

Staring at the arm, Dib completed Arthur's sentence. "It's almost like she gave them shapeshifting."

…

 **Notes:** I have been plowing through Wildbow's online serial novel Worm. Incredibly gruesome but fabulous in terms of loophole-writing education and reminding me how important it is to keep track of mundane details and character limits. Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving, and for those of you who did not, my warm wishes for your emotional recovery. Question to readers! What would be a good name for the half formerly known as Shiker and why? Remember, that half would have to agree to it too…

Chapter title excerpted from Flaws by Bastille.


	22. Right Before The Sun

"Setting the revelation aside for a moment, should you really be doing that?" Dib pointed at Arthur's arm where, a moment ago, he had produced and disintegrated a single feather. "We just got done cleaning you up off the walls and juicing you up. Unless your team is hiding an ace up their sleeves, you don't have another reset button."

Arthur traced the skin on his arm, reaching for information. Answers.

The fog parted, allowing bits of information through. Cooperative, but only as long as questions didn't hit too close to home. A background stream of thought pondered the subject of names, but he tried to focus only on what he needed now.

He signed information as it streamd into place. **Tiny shifts draw on immediate energy reserves. There is no future cost.** He dug further on that branch, curious. **Kitsune body is created to shift so all shifts are negligible cost to them. Even large shifts are no problem. Human body was never supposed to shift so it always hurts when we change something and it costs more. It's like…** his fingers dangled a moment as he struggled to put words to the concept being revealed to him. **Like the larger the change the more energy we need that we don't have, so we borrow energy from the future.**

"Draining your lifespan to fuel large scale shifts."

Arthur nodded. **Shifting is the most draining. We can also cast glamours that only draw on current energy, but the more solid we make it the more it costs us.**

"I also heard you're flammable. What about that?"

 _Oh gods it's everywhere I can't get it off make it stop make it—_

"Easy. Easy. Arthur. Take stock. No threats here."

Arthur blinked. He was across the room from Dib, down on all fours with his teeth bared, nails like claws.

 _You grimace, pulling yourself upright. "I believe I understand what you are asking, but if you could avoid mention of being on fire that would be preferable."_

Confounded, Arthur reached for an explanation. Why would this be an issue?

 _"If we must go here, we should include the doctor," you mutter. "Prior to our division there was an incident with a certain skeleton who laid blame where it didn't belong. Arthur nearly died the first time he was caught. Would have died if the unicorn hadn't been there."_

It didn't make sense. He'd seen flames countless times since that night. He'd even wreathed himself in a blaze on multiple occasions. Now the mere mention of fire had him cowering?

 _"It's about the reminder that you are capable of being consumed by flame." You speak to yourself with no small sense of irony. "'Flammable' has unfortunate connotations the doctor did not intend. You will also recall a phrase you have often thought since this entire incident started, 'There is no time.'"_

Arthur smacked his palm against his forehead, groaning. No time to process the damage, no time to deal with the scars any incident left behind. It had worked in his favor for a while. It was infuriating to constantly be on the clock but the upshot was that he had been able to blindly bash his way through the obstacles without shouldering the consequences. Now…

"Now it's biting you in the ass, isn't it?" Dib had his hands spread slightly, his head lowered. Smart man, taking a vulnerable stance He highly doubted Dib was really unarmed, but the posture helped ease the situation.

"Can't help you with that. Psychology isn't my thing. I'll pick my words more carefully, though."

 _You retreat to the background again, setting about the work of calming the rapid fire heartbeat and unsteady breathing._

Licking dry lips, Arthur signed hesitantly, **Try asking again?**

"Okay. I also heard you are able to make flames." Dib paused, allowing a few seconds to pass before finishing, "What's that about?"

Arthur spent a few minutes analyzing memories of times he'd created fire, gleaning connections for the answer. **Seems like another low energy ability that takes more energy from us the larger we blast it.**

"Right. Now, are all these abilities ones that the being formerly known as Shiker was created with, or did he pick up new tricks along the way?"

 _Your lips pull back in warning._

Dib groaned. "How am I supposed to know what you don't want to talk about?"

 _"I'll make it obvious," you snarl, fangs descending over your lower lip. "It shouldn't be hard to figure out. Just back off."_

"Hiding information could set us back indefinitely! What happens if this is a puzzle piece we need, or if it comes back to bite you?"

 _You cross the room and put your face in Dib's. This time he doesn't make himself look vulnerable. He holds still, unmoving, looking down at you. He has height on you, damn him. A set of scars on his face might make him think twice about—_

Arthur threw himself backwards, letting his head hit the ground just hard enough to get the message across.

A hand gripped his, hauling him back to his feet. "I appreciate you stepping in to stop yourself. I'd appreciate even more if both sides understood that I'm doing what I can to help, here, but I can't do that if I'm missing pieces."

Silent laughter hissed from Arthur's throat. He understood the frustration of Dib's position far more than Dib would know. **There's nothing I can do. Every time I try for more info along any lines he doesn't like, I'm blocked off. It's something he claims neither of us can deal with.** He paused, thinking back to another of Dib's questions. **I have blocked him out. Once. But I was trying to fade away.**

Dib pursed his lips. "I was there. He was frantic, unable to find you."

 **Don't want a repeat of that.**

"Agreed."

 _All this 'other you' business is wearisome. We are me, but if I must._

Arthur's fingers twitched. A phantom touch swept his fingertips and the sound of keys clacking threaded through his mind. He frowned. Was this his other self _asking politely?_

Intrigued, he brushed past Dib and sat at the computer again, placing his hands over the keyboard.

 **SEARCH QUERY: ARTHUR ROOTS |**

His forehead creased. Legends of King Arthur and Facebook profiles filled the first page. His fingers moved again, deleting the search and rephrasing.

 **SEARCH QUERY: ARTHUR NAME MEANS |**

Was this important to his other self because he needed to understand it forwards and backwards before accepting it? He knew that names held some importance for the Shiker and that trait seemed to have carried over, but was this truly necessary?

His eyes flicked over the information Wikipedia provided, noting some of the nicknames he was used to hearing from his friends on the list. Each variant was met with immediate dissatisfaction as he scanned the possibilities. Abruptly his finger stabbed at the screen.

 _An alternative theory, which has only gained limited acceptance among scholars, derives the name Arthur form the Latin Arcturus (the brightest star in the constellation_ _Boötes_ _, near Ursa Major or the Great Bear), which is the latinisation of the Greek_ _Αθανάσιος (_ _Athanasios_ _) and means "Immortal". Another form, Arcturus would also have become Art(h)ur when borrowed into Welsh, and its brightness and position in the sky led people to regard it as the "guardian of the bear" and the "leader" of the other stars in Boötes._

 _"This will do," you say, quietly._

What will do?

 _"Athanasios? Bootes?" Dib guesses._

 _"Arcturus." You wait, cautiously assessing the reaction of your other half. Is it understood?_

Is it understood? The root name is practically ancient, fitting for the age and experience behind the other self. You were comparatively immortal once, but that's not what you meant, was it?

 _You wait._

Guardian. You're claiming the status of guardian as your identity in name as well as action. You are sure this is the name you want?

 _As you said. It is fitting. You glance up at Dib. He has chosen silence, allowing this to play out. "If you have need to speak of us separately, you may call me Arcturus. We…" you pause to check the idea with yourself, and on agreement, proceed. "We prefer you call on 'Arthur' and let us decide who communicates, but we understand some distinction is necessary at times."_

 _"Great, but what do I call the original?" Dib asks._

Arthur smiled. **What my friends call me. Artie.**

….

A string thrummed tight at the edge of Lewis' consciousness. He lifted his head a fraction from the pillow, glowering at the door. The Deadbeat on the other side halted, chittering in distress. There was a message for him.

Incrementally, Lewis slid out from the covers. Lately Vivi managed longer and more contiguous sleep in his arms and had no compunction about asking for his company. Sleep, she maintained, was a factor in how vulnerable she was to a swing and she needed to be in tip top shape. He couldn't help hoping there was a little more to it than that. Wishful thinking aside, he was not about to wake her if he could handle whatever new crisis the Deadbeat was alerting him to.

He paused, listening to the Deadbeat's insistent chirps. Not a crisis, but Kay had asked for him to meet her in the kitchen. He combed the Deadbeat's recent experience, checking to see who else was there.

Dad. Dulcie. Chloe. No Arthur. His shoulders loosened and he drifted down through the floor, making his way to the kitchen. At the last moment, he redirected his course to appear in the doorway of the kitchen. No sense giving his dad a heart attack by coming through the ceiling.

Dulcie was the first to spot him, running up and leaping into his arms. He caught her, spinning her twice before hugging her close. "Hey, you. Sorry I haven't been around as much."

She clasped arms around his neck, burying her face in his lapel. "S'okay. I just miss you."

"Ohayo gozaimasu, Lewis-sempai!" Chloe called, stomping a hoof. There was a large steel pan by her hooves, and a quick peek inside revealed several pounds of walnuts, the shells cracked.

"Chloe cracks the shells and I get the pieces out," Dulcie explained. "We make a good team!"

Lewis set Dulcie down next to Chloe, running a hand through Chloe's mane in affection. "You certainly do. Thank you, Chloe."

She blew her lips at him, butting his shoulder. Her horn was nearly the length of his palm, now. Definitely bent off-center and not a perfect cylinder, but progressing well.

"Lewis."

He turned his head at the whisper. Kay gestured to him from a corner counter where several hunks of dough sat in various states of rising or being kneaded.

Dulcie tapped his arm. "She whispers so she can still talk to Dad. No voice, no problem. Smart, huh?"

Lewis ruffled her hair, grinning. "Yeah. Everyone's a smartypants around here."

He made his way toward Kay, passing his dad who was bent over a beautiful looking turkey, mumbling non-stop. Lewis inhaled deeply, but it was only a motion and sound. No air entered him. No smells tantalized his senses. Sighing, he passed by. Dad was obviously in the zone, no sense disturbing him.

Kay tossed her head, blowing at a stray curl in irritation. "Can you-?"

Lewis tucked the strand behind her ear with care. "I assume that's not why you called."

"No." True to what Dulcie said, Kay kept her words to a hoarse whisper. She rolled the largest hunk of dough over, punching a cavity in it and folding it over. "Couple of things. Wanted to check on you. See how you're doing. I haven't seen you since last night."

"Who's the eldest, here?" Lewis teased. "Don't worry about me."

Kay shot him a wry look. "I can totally take you in that argument, thief. But I'm serious. Whatever Arthur said before you got me last night, you were pretty rattled."

Lewis focused intently on her hands, watching her knuckles roll through the dough. He focused on the pulse of the locket, now hidden in an inner pocket of his suit. He was safe, he reminded himself. Dangerous things could be spoken of from safe places.

"He can still… do things that the Shiker used to do to other kids. He threatened me."

Kay dropped the dough, taking Lewis' hands in a puff of flour. Her own were so ridiculously small under his, she could barely hold all his fingertips. "I know he was scared, but he knew just what to say to scare the hell out of me. Kay…" he lifted his eyes, searching hers. "It's really him, right? I didn't screw up and let everyone bring back a complete monster? He told me in no uncertain terms not to let him become a monster…"

"It's really him." Kay's gaze didn't waver and her answer came immediately. "There's a lot of things I'm unsure and scared about, but that's not one of them. And if you're unsure, don't say that to him. Say it to me. Say it to Vivi. Because I think he's not always sure and out all of us he _has_ to be sure. Okay?"

Lewis nodded. He understood.

"Other thing is, if you're okay to do it, could you round up Dib, Mr. Kingsmen, Vivi, and Arthur? Let them know they're needed in about an hour. We're putting together a little feast to celebrate."

"Celebrate what?"

She flicked flour at him. "Celebrate our victories. It's high time, Lew. We've had way too many losses hanging over our heads. Time to celebrate the good things that have happened and the progress we're making. Time to take it easy for a little bit. We've all earned it."

Lewis' eyes darted over to their dad. "What about Mom?"

Kay bit her lip. "Not ready, yet. Out of the woods, but she still won't eat or do anything without being directly told to. Kind of ironic." She turned back to her dough. "She won't be joining us, but Dad will be having a private dinner with her. I take it as a good sign he's determined to break through somehow."

"Are you mad at her, Kay?"

She didn't answer for a while, swapping one dough out with another and working with it for a few minutes. "Yeah. I'm mad. I think I get it, though. I don't agree at all. I'd prefer to have known what was coming so I could have at least tried to do something about it myself. But she wanted me to be as happy as I could be. I think I want her to be happy for once and I think she could now. She just needs to allow it." She glanced back at him. "What about you?"

He rolled his shoulders in a shrug. He'd said most of what he needed to say to Dulcie already. "I'm not sorry I'm part of this family. She's part of this family. I'm ready to move past it."

Kay offered a tight smile. "I'm glad, 'cause not everyone is. I'm still hoping, though."

Lewis kept himself from looking back at Dulcie.

"So, can you round up the others? And maybe touch base a little longer with Arthur?"

Lewis raised an eyebrow.

Kay wiped her forehead. "I know why, given all the circumstances, but I haven't seen you guys connect in any kind of friendly way once. It's… not like you."

Lewis let his eyes drop back to the counter.

"I don't mean to guilt you, Lew. This situation is really hard and weird. But he always thought the world of you back then. If that's the case and this is how things are going right now, it's easy to guess that he misses that. He might not be paying enough attention to recognize your friendship is missing right now, but I bet he'll know when he sees it again. Assuming…?"

Clasping his hands behind his back, Lewis nodded. "Yeah. I've missed him too."

Kay winked at him. "Told you. Oldest child point to me."

"Oh yeah?" Lewis grabbed her ponytail, snapping the elastic band so her hair dropped in a mop of unruly curls. He zoomed for the door before she could retaliate, exiting much lighter than he'd been on entry.

He sent out queries to the Deadbeats, receiving back information in little chunks he had to piece together. Distance communication was more difficult, but he managed when he had to. Dib and Arthur were talking in the labs and Lance was walking the surface under guard, cell phone in hand.

Lewis rose through steel and soil, poking his head out of the ground by Lance's feet. Lance staggered back, shouting, "Whattahell Lewis?!"

Sheepish, Lewis raised his arms out of the ground as well, pointing back to the convenience shop. "Kay says we're having lunch in about an hour. Come back to the mansion. Looks like they're putting together a real feast."

"Fine, fine. Just get outta here, gotta cover bases back at th' shop," Lance muttered, returning to his conversation. "Whaddaya mean they won't go 'way? Ain't they got parents?"

Lewis sank back into the base, touching down outside of Dib's lab. He didn't allow himself to pause, immediately turning the knob and entering.

"Does _anyone_ bother knocking anymore?" Dib groaned, straightening. He'd been bent over his desk where Arthur was typing something in. Arthur's eyes widened, but before Lewis could tell their color, Arthur had his head down again, his hands swiping across the surface of the desk and dispersing programs from sight.

The pause he'd skipped caught up with him. Lewis blanked, groping for familiarity. First time getting to talk to Arthur when someone's life wasn't in danger and he had no idea how to start.

Arthur's shoulders were up to his ears, his face still turned to the table, his back bent. Was he anticipating attack? Was he afraid?

"We apologize for threatening you," Arthur said to the table, his hair over his eyes. "What we threatened is not an action we would take against you. Not anymore."

Lewis kept his feet on the ground, walking toward Arthur slowly. He simulated the click of shoes on the ground, marking his advance so as not to spook his friend. Arthur's eyes followed his progress.

Slowly, Lewis reached a hand out and rested it on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur flinched, but it was miniscule. He'd had time to brace.

"Artie…" Lewis began, but stopped himself. Arthur's face was a mess. He'd never seen his friend so unkempt. Had the regen-tomatoes given him a blast of hair growth?

And just like that, he knew how to bridge the gap. "Artie, you need a shave and a haircut stat. You look like the wolfman."

Startled, Arthur stared up at him.

"Seriously! What look are you trying to go for, Wolverine?" Lewis punched his shoulder gently, then curled his fingers in a fist, forming a razor in his hand. He offered it to Arthur. "Dad and the girls are pulling together a feast in the kitchen. One hour to get presentable. Come on, I'll give you a hand."

The corner of Arthur's mouth twitched. He curled his right arm around to his left shoulder, twisting at something, and the prosthetic came loose. Grabbing it by the wrist, he tossed it at Lewis, who caught it in bewilderment.

Arthur grinned. "There. Now you can give us a hand. Back."

The eyes were green, but the words were completely Arthur. Lewis chuckled, tossing the arm back. "Right, you jerk. Now let's get ready."

…..

 **Note:** Hello Readers! I just wanted to take a minute and say what I'm sure I don't let you know often enough which is that I appreciate you so. So. So much. I appreciate even more when you engage in the story. This is not a guilt trip, here, I'm seriously gushing right now because on AO3 in the previous chapter I was treated to a discourse between two readers about potential names for Arthur's "other me" and the theorizing and talk had me giddy. If you ever are concerned you're bothering me with theories or irritating me with thoughts, please banish the thought! I'm delighted when people theorize or guess or try to figure out where I'm going or get nerdy about something in the story or even ask me questions directly. There have been times when well placed, timed, or phrased comments have inspired additions or tweaks to my stories that have made them infinitely better. I've only ever reacted badly when people flat out tell me what to do with my story or threaten they'll leave if I don't do X, or flame without giving me valid criticism. I'm open to valid criticism and theories and ideas and… just, I love it when you take this story seriously. I do enjoy writing itself, but your interaction makes it that much sweeter for me. Thank you. Thank you.

Specific thanks to Answrs and Sionnachsskulk and Bookwormgal of AO3 (and Tumblr) for pitching in on name ideas. Quote pulled from Wikipedia article on Arthur (name).

Chapter title excerpted from The Best Is Yet To Come by Sheppard.


	23. You Might Just See The Other Side

Warm breath curled over Kay's neck and she started, glancing over her shoulder. Chloe's muzzle hung there, her golden eyes flicking from the bread pans to Kay.

"Gomen. I only wanted to thank you."

Puzzled, Kay flicked a lock of hair out of her face. "What for?"

"A few weeks ago you sang to me when I was scared and sick. You comforted me. Arigato, Kay."

"That means thank you," Dulcie whispered loudly in passing, a huge bowl of candied walnuts in hand.

Kay ducked her head, smiling. Her voice was usually a thing to be hidden, yet more and more people around her had the ability to listen and enjoy it lately. It was a strange new thing to feel pleasure at this praise. Guilt seeped in underneath that thought, but she turned her mind from it. She was not about to let it ruin today for her.

"It was my pleasure," Kay whispered. "I'm glad you were able to find the truth about yourself."

Chloe bobbed her head. "Also, I think my herd hurt you when they came to get me. I'm not sure, the memory is fuzzy, but I want to apologize for them. They were trying to help me the way they knew how. But they shouldn't have hurt you."

There was no bruise anymore, the sore spot long faded, but it brought to mind Arthur's face when he'd seen the injury. The momentary outrage and the reach toward her, then the insistence on loopholes whenever she sent him away. The man who would not stop trying.

The bruise was nothing in the greater scheme of things, and Duet had given up everything for their child. Kay rubbed Chloe's muzzle gently. "All forgiven. I hope you will show me their grave so I can pay respects soon."

Chloe bobbed her head, then turned to assist Dulcie with a grain-and-pasta dish she was looking after. Two Deadbeats assisted Kay's father in Lewis' place, diving and swooping to carry out his instructions. He, for his part, barely registered them, accepting cooking implements and ingredients as they came to him out of the air, wholly immersed in meal preparations.

Kay slid loaves and cakes from their pans, each onto its own small platter. Cranberry breads and carrot cakes, sourdough loaves and rich brown dinner rolls—still steaming. She covered each with a barely-moist dishtowel, then whistled for a Deadbeat. She pointed at her trays, watching as it scooped them up two at a time and vanished from the kitchen. Nobody had seen the dining room yet, but with a feast like this she hoped the Deadbeats had put some effort into decoration and arrangement.

A moment to pour the cranberry sauce from the pot to a lovely silver gravydish. Another moment to dump the honey-butter carrots into a small ceramic bowl. A whistle for the Deadbeats, then moving on to one of the many ovens.

In three years she had never been able to pry the recipe for Surf's Up Surprise from the local pizza shop's owner and it was surprisingly difficult to balance the pungent ingredients to some resemblance of the original. This feat was twice as hard since she couldn't stand tasting it herself, but it looked about right. One good whiff assured her that this attempt smelled right, too. Gagging a little, she closed the oven, shaking her head. This was _not_ going to be a regular occurrence for sure. Still, it would put a smile on Arthur's face, and that would be worth it.

A turkey-sized dome-covered platter whizzed by, supported by two Deadbeats, and Kay glanced at the clock. Almost time. She dodged a flying pan of bacon-wrapped figs and a large trencher of stir-fried vegetables. Wiping her hands on her apron, she approached her father, whispering, "Dad?"

He had assembled two fairly large plates of food with a little bit of every dish represented. He was muttering still, and Kay bent her head to catch what he was saying.

"Do you think she will like it? Do you think she will like it? Do you think she will like it?"

Kay wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind. "She'll love it, Dad. She might not be able to say so right now, but there isn't a thing on those plates she doesn't like." She kissed his head. "Thank you for trying."

He reached trembling hands up to squeeze her arms, offering a shaky smile. "Does she have a favorite drink? Favorite drink? Favorite drink? Favorite—"

Kay put a finger over his lips, quietly answering, "Just tea. Chamomile, with a teaspoon of honey. Go on. I'll send a Deadbeat after you with everything you need."

He nodded his head, patting her face clumsily, and asked the Deadbeats five times to help him carry the plates. Kay watched him leave, her fingers tracing her neck absently. She had to hold onto hope that Arthur and Dib would find a way to help him.

One or two dishes were still cooling, but they didn't need further supervision. She pulled her apron off and draped it over the counter, exiting the kitchen. Wiping her hands on her pants, she made her way down the hall. She'd seen the Deadbeats coming and going from this direction, so it was likely where the dining room had formed. She had nearly gotten used to the ever-changing structure of this place, with rooms vanishing and opening up in accordance with need.

As she drew near the dining room she slowed, her feet dragging to a halt. Her fingers traced her neck all the way up to her lips and back again. She took a step back, ramming into something soft.

"Ooof, hey! Kay, careful."

"Sorry!" Kay turned, chagrined. Vivi scrubbed an eye under her glasses, yawning. "Sorry, didn't hear you coming."

"S'okay, I'm a little fuzzy still. I heard there was food, though." She offered a sleepy smile. "Can't pass up genuine Pepper family cooking. I'm not early, am I?"

"Pretty much ready to start. You can head on in." Kay stepped back to allow Vivi to pass her.

Vivi tilted her head, still scrubbing her eye. "Hey, Kay, are you alright? You look… I dunno, gunshy. Got first-date-flashback jitters or something?"

Kay shook her head, plastering her hand over her neck. "No, no. I mean. I. He's going to be there and that's good. I." She glanced at Vivi's scarf. "Vivi, could I… could I ask you a huge favor?"

"Yeah, sure, Kay. What can I do?"

"Can I borrow your scarf? Until I can get something else."

Vivi was silent for a moment. She reached out, taking Kay's hands in her own. "Kay, you know he doesn't care at all, right?"

Kay ducked her head, averting her eyes. "I know. But. I care."

Nodding, Vivi unwound her scarf and piled it in Kay's hands. "It's clean. I don't know how, but I think it's something Lewis is doing. None of my clothes have needed a wash even once."

Kay draped it around her neck, circling the fabric around her neck two or three times until she was covered up to the chin. "Thanks, Vivi. I'll get it back to you soon."

Vivi linked arms with her, tugging her toward the door. "C'mon. I didn't interrupt my beauty sleep to just smell the food. Let's get in there."

….

Arthur ran his fingers over his face and back through his hair. He felt refreshed on an entirely different level than he had after his rejuvenation-which was thoroughly ridiculous. The idea that a shave and a haircut somehow trumped a cellular renewal session was stupid, but there it was. He stood a little straighter today than he had for weeks. And gods alone knew how Lewis managed showers in this place, but even that helped him feel more human.

Lewis had just rolled his eyes at Arthur's assessment. "Of course it does, Artie. I picked up a few tricks living with Vivi, one of them being a list of simple things that make you feel more like you."

Grinning, Arthur signed, **You saying Vivi needs a shave?**

Lewis punched his good arm lightly. "Watch it. I'm saying taking care of yourself in big and little ways becomes more important the more fragile you are."

Pausing, Arthur thought through that sentence. He didn't like it, but he was more fragile and it would be stupid to deny that. If anything, the matter of fact way Lewis had said it was helpful, cementing the detail in place and treating it as par for the course. Maybe he could sit down with Lewis and Vivi and glean more information from them.

"Another helpful thing is leaning on people close to you that you can trust." Lewis tossed Arthur's clean clothes into the bathroom. "You choose who that is, but figure that out fast. You're not spearheading a family-rescue-operation anymore and it's time you get looked after too."

Arthur rolled his eyes. **Gimme a break. It's been nothing but look-after-Arthur since we got back.**

"Different level now," Lewis insisted.

Grunting acknowledgment, Arthur pulled on his clothes. Grabbing a comb, he ran it through his hair, using the time to explain to Lewis the new naming system he had worked out with himself. Once finished he flashed one thumb up to Lewis, who drifted in with his prosthetic. Arthur connected it to his shoulder implant with a wince, rotating it gently. So, he couldn't grow a new arm but he could fix the implant anchoring issue to the point where he no longer needed a torso harness.

 _Whatever body you create is based on the wholeness of your original body. Growing another arm would require the same constant energy usage and concentration of shapeshifting, and eventually that would drain you._

Sighing, Arthur exited the bathroom. Flashing a smile at Lewis, he signed, **Thank you.**

Lewis signed back, **No problem.** "Now come on, food's gotta be ready by now."

Arthur lit up, eagerly making for the door. Lewis followed, tapping one shoulder or the other to guide him in the right direction down twisting hallways.

But in sight of the final doorway-marked by heavy Deadbeat traffic in and out of the room-he paused, one foot hanging midair.

"Arthur?" Lewis prodded him.

 _You set your foot down. "We need to know something from you," you say softly. You feel him tense behind you, but he doesn't flee. "Desperate times and desperate measures are one thing and perhaps you were only amenable to Kay helping us because of these desperate times and measures. But moving forward, will we have to be enemies over your sister?"_

 _There is a heavy sigh from behind. "It's… hard not to see how much you care for each other. Not even death could separate you." A note of bitterness in his voice, and regret stoops your shoulders. "Just do your best by her. That's all I ask."_

 **Always,** he signed.

Lewis turned him around, staring him in the eye. "Just do your best by her. That's all that I ask."

 _You cringe. You hoped that Artie answering would be enough, but he wants to hear it from both. "My job is to do my best by me. That is my function."_

 _"By now you know your best depends heavily on her," Lewis rumbled. "You're not an idiot."_

 _You break eye contact, scowling. He's right and you know it. "I will not place her safety above ours, you understand? I cannot. But I will do my best by her."_

Lewis nodded, giving Arthur a gentle shove forward. "Then, no. You don't have to worry about me. Now get in there, idiot."

Arthur stumbled in, blinking in the dim light. As his eyes adjusted, he felt his mouth begin to water.

At the far end of the room was a fireplace worthy of olden day kings, as tall as Lewis at the center of its arch and lined with hewn stones. A quick check with himself confirmed this fire did not pose a threat to him. It burned orange-not pink with Lewis' power-and had obviously been lit with a regular source of flame. Had the doctor cued Lewis in? He would have to thank Dib later.

A table had been set up near the fireplace, laden with all kinds of covered dishes and little wooden kegs labeled with the names of drinks they contained. Cider. Hot Chocolate. World Famous Pepper Eggnog. Arthur snorted at the last one. You couldn't pay him to glugg that stuff, but their cider was without compare.

Perpendicular to the buffet-style food-table was an elegant wooden dining table set with red and green dishes and gleaming silver utensils. Napkins alternated color each setting between silver and gold, and a mess of pine boughs filled the center of the table, broken up by the occasional golden candlestick holding a lit taper. Silver tinsel clumps hung here and there from the walls and a giant compass rose hung from the ceiling directly over the table. It appeared to be wrought of precious metals and glass and made for a spectacular star.

 **I know I lost track of time but it can't be Christmas already,** Arthur signed.

"It's not," Lewis agreed. "But Dulcie put a bug in my ear, said we needed something more festive than usual for a victory celebration. It was either this or red, white, and blue."

"You like it?" Dulcie darted in from behind, wrapping her arms around Arthur's waist. "You surprised?"

Caught off balance, Arthur grabbed at a chair to steady himself, then flashed a smile at Dulcie. **Yeah, surprised. I like it a lot. Hi.**

"Hi. Feelin' better?"

 **Lots better. Thank you.** He reached out and slid the hairclip back in her hair. **Here. I think I don't have to be brave for a while and this looks better on you.**

"That's what _you_ think," she retorted, skipping over to the table to check all the place settings.

Kay and Vivi entered through a door in the opposing wall, arm in arm. Kay had smudges of flour on her face and a light dusting of it over her hair. She wore Vivi's scarf, wrapped several times around her neck.

 _Your grip on the chair tightens. This is the dizzy-warm scent from before, the overflow that spills from every glance she gives you. You have been too exhausted to think of it lately, but it comes to you with a great deal of clarity now._

 _You confessed to her on Artie's behalf. On your behalf, really. Both need her. One may care more for her, but both wish for her wellbeing as well as her nearness. And she, in turn, reciprocated. You recall the feeling of her lips on yours, not wrenching away in terror and madness, but offering a tender, unreserved kiss._

 _Now you stand there, frozen. Is it truly the first time you meet her on equal ground since her death? No madness, no fatigue, no desperation of the dying. Just a block of ice where your guts used to be._

Artie shook himself, rounding the end of the table and heading toward Kay. Some things, obviously, he could handle better than Arcturus. A sly grin spread over Vivi's face as she pulled away from Kay, much to Kay's consternation. Arthur approached, holding one hand out to Kay. Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his, and Arthur bent double over her hand, pressing a gentleman's kiss to the back of it.

 _This is handling it better?! What sort of moronic assertion believes this is acceptable first contact-_

Kay ducked her head, tucking her abashed smile into the scarf she wore. "Good to have you back, Arthur," she said quietly, stepping forward into his arms.

He wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes as he rested his cheek on top of her curls. The moment threatened to sweep him away. It was _right_ , this moment. The first truly right moment in gods knew how long. Even Arcturus fell silent, drinking in the healing of this gesture, of being held by her in a moment not born of panic and despair. He was taken aback by the sudden, fierce resurgence of a desire to protect her against all harm.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped back. He didn't want to overwhelm her. Always so careful with him, he had to give her the same consideration. Taking her hand, he squeezed it gently and gestured to the table. She followed, taking the seat next to him. Lewis had already escorted Vivi to the opposite side, pulling a chair out for her. Arthur waved at Vivi, chagrined that he hadn't given her a proper hug.

"How ya doing, Squire? Looking pretty good. About time." Vivi grinned. "Can't be babysitting your behind all the time, y'know."

Arthur snorted, wadding up his napkin and tossing it at Vivi. She caught it and threw it back, sticking her tongue out at him.

Chloe clopped into the room, trumpeting her arrival with a silvery whinny. Ribbons with little bells had been braided through her mane, lending her an extra festive appearance. Arthur did his best to swallow a joke about her need for an open sleigh.

Lance trailed in after her, a distracted expression on his face. Arthur stood from his seat, waving an arm wide to catch his attention. Lance perked up. "Ehhhh, Artie!" He trudged over for a hug. "So good ta have ye back. Hopin' we can get these shenanigans through soon, there's a situation at the shop I gotta deal with."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

Lance shrugged. "Eh, some wild kids just up an' hired themselves into working. Kids say flat out they're runaways but won't give up nothin' else about themselves. An' do my men report this? No! They let the kids work the shop. I tell ye, Artie, I'm gonna get a smackdown for some child labor I didn't agree to if this keeps up. I gotta get back and sort this out."

Arthur considered this, confused. It was certainly out of the ordinary. He knew all the guys in Lance's shop and he couldn't picture any of them slacking off or shifting work on a runaway kid.

 _You are uneasy._

No. Not going to be uneasy. It wasn't his problem, it was Uncle Lance's. He clapped Lance on the shoulder sympathetically and took his seat again. Lance took a chair on the other side of Arthur.

Dulcie pulled up a chair by Chloe and frowned, searching the length of the table.

"Hey, Lewis, you invited Doctor Dib, right?" she asked.

"Of course."

Her frown deepened. "Okay… be right back. Maybe he got too focused on something. Don't start without us, ok?"

"Okay but hurry up!" Chloe urged. "Before my greens get cold!"

Dulcie patted Chloe's nose affectionately, then slipped her chair and shot out of the room.

Arthur's fingers brushed Kay's, and she wound her fingers through his. He had no problem waiting a little while longer for dinner.

….

Dulcie held onto the trailing tail of a Deadbeat guide, hurrying after it as fast as her legs could take her. It swooped around like a kite, trilling with laughter that suggested it was imitating one on purpose. She smiled as she followed it. She couldn't be completely sure but she thought she'd begun to recognize little differences in the Deadbeats and this one answered her call more than any of the others. Tiny bumps covered the top of its head and it tended to be extra snuggly. She wondered if Lewis had noticed.

It led her out of the mansion, out of the vault, and into the sterile labyrinth of Doctor Dib's facility. It was so different, with no color and no warmth at all. Everyone who passed by was either dressed in white or suited up for a fight and there wasn't a single smile on anyone's face.

The Deadbeat came to a stop outside of a door and chirped twice. Dulcie released its tail and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

She opened the door, standing in the entry. Doctor Dib paused, his hands hovering over the surface of his desk.

"I expected Torque," he said, setting his hands down. "Can I help you with something, Dulcie?"

"Yeah, you can come with me. It's dinner time, didn't Lewis tell you?"

Doctor Dib looked back down at the surface of his desk, his fingers tapping across the surface as if it were a keyboard. "He did. I'm fine, I'll grab some leftovers later. You'd better go on if it's starting."

Dulcie marched in and rounded the desk. Startled, Dib swiped across the surface a few times, then turned to her. "What?"

Dulcie grabbed his hand, tugging. "Not good enough. Come on."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Don't you dare lie to me."

Both of Dib's eyebrows shot up, but she didn't care.

"I hate it when adults lie to me. It's not okay. You're mad we're all together and happy. I see it whenever you talk to me and I say something about us having each other. How come you won't come when you're invited?"

Dib removed his hand from hers, coldly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just busy."

"You're busy all the time."

He sucked in a breath as if pained.

"Come have dinner. Eat with us," she pleaded.

"Dulcie, it's not… you're not…"

"Not what?" she demanded.

"Not… my team." He turned his back on her. "You're your own family. Just. Go."

"We want you there too!"

"Go!" the word burst out, explosive, leaving Dib ramrod straight and trembling in its wake.

Dulcie stood there at a loss. She didn't understand why he wouldn't come or why he was mad and she didn't know how to change his mind. She couldn't wait him out with everyone waiting for her to come back.

"I hope you come before it's over," she said quietly. "We'd all like to see you there. 'Specially me. You work too hard all the time." Turning, she walked out, grabbing the Deadbeat's tail again. "Take me back."

….

Teles no longer needed to be hooked up to the monitoring system, so the only sound between her and Timothy was the clink of utensils and the occasional slurp or sip. Well, Timothy thought that was the only sound, but for all he knew he was uttering a steady string of nonsense. He managed to be sure of communication if he focused on a specific sentence over and over. At least it got the response he needed from whomever he tried to communicate with. Still no sense of when he was actually speaking or the difference between thought and speech, and still the ever-shaking hands.

But Teles ate as he had instructed her to. She would not meet his eyes but obeyed the order, methodically emptying her plate. He could detect no trace of enjoyment on her face. She might as well have been eating sand for all she reacted to the rich aromas and flavors he had spent so long crafting. Anger flashed through him for a moment. Who did she think she was?

The answer came back to him, shaming his anger. A broken woman. A broken woman with a broken man. When she finished all that was on her plate, he removed it from her lap and set it on the counter that ran along the wall. Returning to her, he perched on the edge of her bed, his hand on her arm.

He had so many questions without answers. Had they ever been happy together? Where had he found this woman with magic in her throat? Did she have more family? What had it been like, for her, growing up in some mythical realm? Did she miss the life she had before? What could she have seen in him that could persuade her to leave whatever life she had, and how could he show her that again? How could he convince her to come back to them, to be part of their family?

Fingers over his lips. He could feel his lips moving, even against the fingers, and lifted his eyes to meet hers. She covered his mouth, shaking her head, eyes glistening. She hadn't spoken once. He remembered she had herself gagged so she couldn't harm him. But Kay had found a way around it. Kay had whispered so she could speak to him. Kay had whispered so she could speak to him. Kay had whispered—

It must have gotten through. Teles' eyes widened, dropping a few unguarded tears down her cheeks. She sagged against the pillows, her hand falling away from his face.

"Timothy." The whisper frayed ragged at the edges. "Do the gods punish me for not thinking large enough? Even my daughter finds ways where I see none."

He closed his hands around hers as her shoulders shook. Gasps broke her whispered sentences in half. "Is it my fault? That I cannot think large enough? Could I have saved them all somehow? Could I have saved them and kept their love, too? Could… could I have… kept yours…"

In this moment, Timothy caught a glimpse of what he must have seen, years ago in a forgotten life. This was no distant, mythical creature descended from on high to tolerate his company. This was a netted bird, still trailing the bonds that had broken her wings.

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to see this bird fly as she'd always been meant to. If that took his whole life, well then. It would be a life well spent.

And yet he was afraid of the sudden urge to take her in his arms and reassure her. It was too familiar, too intimate a gesture. He did not know what to do with himself, so instead he reached over and wiped her tears. There was no fixing what had been and there never would be. It was done. But he was willing to move forward. He was willing to move forward. He was willing to move forward. He was willing to move forward. But she had to be willing too. She had to be willing too. She had to be willing too.

He couldn't carry them both.

She folded her hands around his, pressing his hand to her lips. The gesture burned warm in his chest.

"If you're with me, I'll try," she managed.

….

 **Note:** Merry (late!) Christmas to my readers, and if not, I wish you a warm and loving time of year. I also wish you a gentle easing into the new year. May the coming year be kinder to us all. Chapter title excerpted from Sheppard's song The Best Is Yet To Come.


	24. Waiting On You

Afterimages of a glittering ballroom and crystal chandeliers hung from high, arched domes hung in Arthur's mind as he stirred under a warm quilt. For a moment he wondered why on earth he would be dreaming about ballrooms, until fragments from the night before waltzed through his mind.

Long tables groaning under Christmassy decorations and platters of food. Their strange, disjointed family groups seated evenly about. The impromptu dance proposed by Lewis in the wake of the meal, accompanied only by gentle drumming. It had been Arthur's first true dance with Kay, no longer the frenzied reel they'd had to enact to save his life. Instead it had been an affectionate, playful act with no shortage of lingering glances.

He shifted, cracking his neck and trying to recollect where he'd landed after the festivities. He had no need of the medbay now, so Lewis had...

Right. Lewis had escorted him and Kay to a room. Arthur shivered at the memory of Lewis, staring at him as he entered. No burning hatred, but a decisively stony look communicating that Arthur would be under constant watch. He'd declined the bed, opting to pull a chair over to the side of the bed and park himself there for the night.

His fingers prodded the quilt. He must have been out like a light. The quilt was draped over him, definitely not something he recalled pulling around himself.

A soft hum nearby stirred his mind to full alert instantly. He could almost swear to feeling neurons reconfigure in anticipation. How deep did awareness of his body go?

 _Don't ask something quite that stupid ever again. You inherited shapeshifting abilities so you should have figured this out by now. We must be aware of everything. One mistake and we could switch our excretory and respiratory systems._

Arthur shuddered at that mental image, shifting to sit up straight as he opened his eyes.

It was a nice room, fairly generic by the mansion's standards, but warm. A bathroom door hung open in one corner of the room and a large, four post bed took up most of the space. Kay lay bundled at the closest edge, blankets wrapped cocoon-style around her. One arm hung free over the edge of the bed, a few inches from his chair.

 _What are you going to do about this?_

He couldn't pretend not to know what Arcturus meant. Arcturus could hide things from him, but it didn't work the other way. So unfair.

 _So, answer. What are you going to do about this?_

Nothing. There's nothing to be done right now. The next task was learning what they could about a siren's voice to formulate a treatment for Mr. Pepper. Then they had to figure out if it was even possible to return the Pepper family to life aboveground and _then_ maybe, just maybe… maybe...

 _Spit it out. No one to hear you but you._

His mouth was dry. By the time he'd approached Lewis about Kay the first time, he'd had a sense where the relationship was probably headed but it was still going to be a while. At least, that's what he'd told himself. He had modest savings from the shop and living with Uncle Lance helped a great deal. No outstanding deb-oh, wait, the surgery. He'd be paying that off for a while. No student loans, though. Was he ready? Could they make it? Did she even want-

 _You are such a fool sometimes._

He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the wall. Arcturus could say what he wanted but there were things to consider. Problems to be weighed. How would she even take a proposal? Her father had proposed on the spur of a song. It had been so, so difficult to get Kay to accept that he knew his own mind after she'd sung to him. Would she even believe him if he proposed to her, or would she sink into the blank, sad-eyed acceptance he now pictured on Mrs. Pepper's face?

 _Choose your moment carefully. Consult others if you must. I maintain you are a fool to be concerned about these things which are so much less than what has recently been overcome._

With that, Arthur relaxed, allowing himself a small smile. He'd marched into the underworld empty handed and emerged with Kay, and here he was worried about figuring out how to propose and make ends meet. Funny how easy it was to lose perspective.

Reaching out, he closed his fingers around her hand, gently tugging. The little sleeping-hums stopped and her eyes opened, bleary. She glanced down at their hands, then back up to Arthur, the sleep clearing from her eyes in seconds. She turned her head, burying her face in the pillow, but squeezed his hand back.

A knock at the door broke the quiet. Arthur groaned, releasing Kay's hand and unwinding himself from the quilt. Kay sat up, still swathed in blankets. "Come in?"

Vivi poked her head in, a mischievous grin already on her face. "Hey, lovebirds. Awake yet?"

Arthur levelled a glare at Vivi, who wiggled her eyebrows back at him.

"Fantastic. Well, um." Vivi's grin slipped, and Arthur tensed. "Well, it's. Kind of time. Dib says everybody's functional enough to start in on testing. He's already briefed Mrs. Pepper on the particulars, but he's hoping to start within the hour."

Arthur was uneasy with the idea of putting Dib through the wringer like this. He didn't strike Arthur as entirely stable. Desperate times, though, and Dib had volunteered.

"I don't like it," Kay said quietly.

Vivi sighed. "Yeah. I don't think any of us does, but we gotta find a way to help your Dad without frying his brain. I'll monitor Dib, don't worry. As of now, Dib transferred authority to Lance. Arthur, you're up at bat."

Nodding, Arthur stood, holding out a hand to Kay. She took it, unwinding herself from the blankets. A blue scarf hung loose around her neck.

For a moment her neck was ripped apart, exposing muscle and trachea as blood flooded her lungs. He could hear the horrible whistling and bubbling of air where it wasn't supposed to flow, could see her eyes dimming…

Scars. Only scars. Covered, now, the blue scarf readjusted tightly about the neck. His throat burned as he grabbed her shoulder. One hand touched her face for a moment, then both hands came together, signing to her.

Kay glanced to Vivi. "Um. I don't…"

"He's asking if you even remember that you saved his life first."

Kay gripped a fold of the scarf. "N-no. I'm sorry, Arthur."

He half turned to Vivi, launching into a barrage of gestures, before turning back to Kay and tugging on the scarf, gently.

"He says that should have been his neck, like that. It would have been, but you stopped Aji and saved his life. It shouldn't be a shameful thing. He says your neck is beautiful and you are beautiful."

Kay folded her arms, her fingers clutching tight at the elbows. "I… not ready. Not to me. Not ready."

Vivi glanced at Arthur. "Hey, Squire. Good thought, but too fresh."

Grimacing, Arthur slid his hands into his pockets. He didn't like it. He couldn't put his finger on all the reasons why it felt bad that she covered her neck, but it was her neck. In the end he didn't really have a right to demand anything. He ducked his head apologetically and shuffled toward Vivi. Kay's footsteps fell in behind him and together they trailed out of the mansion to join the others at the mouth of the vault.

Lance offered Arthur a quick hug and a pat on the back. Dulcie perched side-saddle style off Chloe's back. Arthur pointed at Dulcie and Chloe, cocking an eyebrow.

"I think I can help with Doctor Dib," Dulcie said solemnly. "But I'll only know if I can help when I see something's needed."

 _Unusually cryptic for the youngest, but we turn no help away._

 __Arthur elbowed Vivi, signing, **You ready? You okay?**

"Yeah, I'm ready. Wish Mystery were here, though." She glanced at him, hopeful. "You wouldn't happen to know-"

 _"No. We have no way of knowing where he is." You avert your eyes so you do not see her crestfallen face. You are caught off guard, however, by a sigh from Chloe. You glance sideways, noting the sullen disappointment rolling off her._

 _"Why do you care?" you ask, narrow-eyed._

 _She lays her ears back. "Baka dog promised to help me learn to use my magic and skipped out. Never trust a dog. Just like Duet said."_

 _You tilt your head, contemplating the situation as the group ambles through the underground facility, Vivi in the lead. "You know, there's nothing Mystery could teach you that I do not know."_

 _She shakes her head and snorts, lip lifting in disgust._

 _You contain your irritation. "I am aware of your feelings, quite strongly I might add. Consider it down payment on whatever debt my former existence owes you, if you wish. If you take me up on this, I believe we can work out a way for you to continue living on the surface. It is entirely in your, em, hooves." You smirk._

 _"Mendokusai ken." She tossed her head again, then put it down, her lips nearly touching the ground as she plodded along. Eyeing him for a minute, she sighed, grumbling, "Ira ira suru. Douzo."_

 _"Is that a yes?"_

 _"Yes, but she doesn't like it," Dulcie piped up._

 _"I never expected her to." You lapse into silence as you approach a rather imposing steel door with a variety of coded locks on it._

Uncle Lance stepped forward, flashing a shiny plastic card at one lock, planting his hand over the scanner of another, and bringing his face up to the third. As the door swung open, Lance shook his head. "Wasn't kiddin' about handin' me the keys to it all. Hope he takes 'em back eventually. Can't run this _and_ the shop. Don't even know what half'a this is."

Arthur filed into the room just behind Vivi. It was a long room, more like a closed off hallway than anything else. The right wall consisted of a window-likely one-way. The left wall had multiple headsets hanging on pegs all lined up in a row.

Lewis stood next to them, pulling one off the wall. "Looks like everyone's here. Good. Put these on and you'll only hear what comes over the headset. Everyone needs them."

 _"Where is she?" you ask._

"Other side." He jerked his head at the window.

Dib was already in the room on the other side of the window, but on the other side of that room stretched a similarly sized dark panel of glass. Dib had put himself between two observation rooms with Mrs. Pepper by herself on one side.

Startled, Arthur realized Dib had ditched his goggles. Simple glasses framed the top half of a haggard face. The brown eyes kept darting between the glass panels, his anxiety so strong that the scent passed through the wall to Arthur. Silver panels wound around his scalp, covering every spot below the hairline to the shoulderblades and collarbone. It was crisscrossed by dozens of wires and had more bulbs than a Christmas tree. Metal bands held it in place, passing over his forehead, under his nose, and across his chin.

Lewis gestured to get Arthur's attention. "We're the only ones that can hear what goes over the headsets. You talk to Dib through here." He pointed at a small comm station by the window. "Hold the button down to speak. Sound from the room gets transcribed up there." He pointed at a set of monitors above the window. "That one on the right is split between live transcription and audio waves tracking Mom's voice. The one on the left is Dib's brain. Or," Lewis shrugged. "That's what he told me."

 **Did he tell you anything else?** Arthur asked.

"Yeah, that he managed a program to label the reactions of his brain in simple language on the screen. Supposedly when parts react, the screen will list off what those parts are responsible for."

Arthur exhaled slowly. That would make things much easier. Grabbing a headset, he pulled it over his ears. Lance, Vivi, and Kay did the same. Dulcie donned hers and helped get a set over Chloe's ears.

"Mom already has hers." Lewis gestured to a door at the far end of the room. "Vee, Dib wanted you near him to keep an eye on how far he gets pushed. You shout for me and I'll be in there to restrain him a second later."

"Got it. I'll yell… um." She thought for a moment. "I dunno. Plums. I'll yell 'plums.' "

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up. I'm hungry again. Plus it's short."

"It works." Lewis hugged her briefly before escorting her through the door and into the observation room.

Arthur pulled a seat up to the little comm station. _You gesture to Kay. "Please, near me. I may need to ask you things at a moment's notice."_

 _She pulls up close without hesitation. A moment of unexpected gratitude for the fact that she never flinches from you._

Dib had brought a few objects into the testing area; a whiteboard and markers, one stuffed dummy hooked to the wall, a colorful ball, and a pie.

 _You flip the switch on the side of your headset and speak. "Teles, you can hear me?"_

 _Silence on the line for a moment. Is it your imagination, or does her voice crack slightly when she answers?_

 _"Yes."_

 _Ah. Your voice is now associated with the Shiker. Well. You are not here to prove yourself to her. You cannot very well sign instructions to her. "Good. Now, how much of your singing is needed to bring a human under your control?"_

 _"Not much."_

 _"Good. Turn off your mic and demonstrate. Bring Dib under sway."_

 _Vivi is holding Dib's arm. Her mouth is moving but her mic is off. Dib's eyes are shut tight and he has taken a seat. His fists are balled and his legs have drawn in under the chair, ready to spring him forward at a moment's notice. Force of will alone seems to keep him seated. The screen showing his brain is listing off_ _ **FEAR. FLIGHT RESPONSE. VISUALIZATION.**_

 _The monitor spikes with the waves that indicate Teles' song. Dib's eyes open in horror for a split second. In the next his expression has relaxed into wonder. His posture loosens and he melts back into the chair, staring at the ceiling agape._

….

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from Regina Spektor's You've Got Time.


	25. Clockwork Brain

Mistake. This whole thing was a mistake and Dib had thrown himself headlong into creating an unmitigated disaster. He was the son of Professor Membrane, heir in part to the empire his father had created. If any one human could render the entire planet uninhabitable, it would be one who could turn his father's inventions against the world.

Or the one that broadcast the existence of Earth to hostile alien forces.

For a moment Dib saw the mass of people he had betrayed by letting his guard down like this. They were ignorant, foolish clods always getting in the way of his efforts, but they were his kind. It was his people.

The music slipped through his fears effortlessly. Even as he understood what was happening it swept him into a state of breathless desire. There was no struggle, merely a rapid dissolve. So tired of fighting everything and everyone and the song was so sweet…

….

Arthur exhaled slowly, seating himself at the kitchen island and skimming the notebook he'd filled as the session progressed. Turns out the initial binding of the human will could very easily kill them if not handled with care, which corresponded with Lewis' testimony about nearly dying when Kay first fledged. Dib had gone into complete organ failure, lying there in total peace as the team erupted in panic. His brain had gone into a sort of pleasureful shock and stopped sending signals to the rest of his body.

If Timothy's story was any guideline, he'd escaped this aspect because Teles had swayed him by accident in her sleep. Kay hummed in her sleep, so it was likely Teles did something similar, which was low-level enough to insinuate audio patterns into the human brain without overloading the system. Arthur had escaped it through… Kay's restraint? The fact that his brain had already been touched by the Shiker? He wasn't sure.

Lewis and Kay had cut through the team panic, calling on Teles to change her song.

More scribbled notes. The volume and intensity had effects, but so did the intent of the song. According to Lewis and Kay, Lewis had been saved from death because Teles had sung a melody "full of life" to remind him how to live. This phrasing drove Arthur crazy. What exactly was "singing a melody full of life" supposed to translate to? How was he supposed to decode that into a repeatable formula?

A few seconds of this modified song and Dib had come to, gasping like a fish on land. Readouts informed Arthur that multiple parts of Dib's brain were already affected, but that the effect was heaviest in the parts responsible for pleasure, addiction, and critical thinking. Alerts informed him that whole new networks were being forged inside Dib's head, spreading out from those points to the rest of the tissue.

The first test was easy. Teles ordered Dib to pick up a ball and carry it to the other side of the room. He performed the action eagerly and was rewarded with a wash of pleasure upon completion. Critical thinking bottomed out from the time Teles gave the command to the time Dib finished, only resurfacing once he had completed the task. This corresponded with Arthur's experience. He'd practically blanked out while fulfilling Kay's demand to go away, thinking of nothing but how much he needed to follow her instructions to the letter.

For the second test, Arthur had checked with Dib to see what languages he spoke. Assured that Dib only knew English and fragments of alien languages, Arthur prompted Teles to give Dib a command in Greek. Brain scans showed no comprehension, yet Dib crossed the room to cut himself a slice of pie and proceeded to eat it. Kay confirmed this is what her mother had told him to do.

"Compulsion NOT purely biological, more at play" the notes read. "Confer with Kay and Teles. Hierarchy of command? Types of command? Re Demeter command vs four Siren songs situation resolved by adding Kay." In the margin, the word, "Morai?" floated in a circle.

Kay had requested a test, asking her mother to convey a command through sign language. Teles had entered the testing room briefly, copying motions Vivi fed her, ordering Dib to balance a book on his head. Dib only shrugged, confirming to Arthur that a command had to be vocal, though not necessarily spoken in the hearer's language.

Arthur kicked his feet against the stool he sat on, chewing his lip, his pen hovering over the notes Kay had contributed.

At some point or another, all three mature sirens had put Timothy under sway by accident, ignorance, or carelessness. The standing rule observed in their family was that each did their best not to phrase sentences as commands. Whenever they did so by accident each siren caught herself and neutralized the order, rephrasing it as a question. Usually by then, lingering effects of her command still prompted Timothy to comply. Kay could always tell "by the expression on his face." However, in the time leading up to the confrontation in the cave, Teles had begun overruling Timothy's will on purpose, demanding that he return with both their daughters in tow. Dulcie confirmed it had gotten worse as Teles confined them to the kitchen table under her watch.

When questioned, Teles filled in the next few blanks. She and Timothy had been arrested, but the command for Timothy to stay at the kitchen table was still in place. She had neutralized the command during her one phone call, placed to Timothy, and it sounded like he collapsed on the other end. She then ordered him to tell the authorities everything, overruling his protests and hanging up.

From that point, Arthur surmised, they had both been turned over to Dib, who had ordered conditioning experiments. Teles had chosen the target based on hair color, conditioning her husband to kill Dulcie on sight. He must have understood what she intended and been helpless to do anything about it.

The tasks assigned to Dib on this first round of testing had been benign, things nobody would bother refusing. There had been one instance of being unable to fulfill a command to walk on the ceiling where he had worked out several creative, but faulty, solutions. Each failure had resulted in increasing anxiety and lower critical thinking skills, but nothing truly abhorrent had been proposed to Dib.

Arthur suspected it was the commands Timothy found truly terrible that had broken him. The cognitive dissonance that came from the violent tug of war on his will was likely a huge factor in the damage Timothy suffered.

They would have to do the same to Dib. Dib, however, would surely never tell them what his fears were. Even if Arthur dug it out of his mind, Dib would know it was all part of the test and would be braced against its effects. Arthur had to figure out a way to break him just like Mr. Pepper had been broken.

He sank his teeth into the pen, snarling. He hated how much his thoughts sounded like the Shiker. Hated that he had to recreated one man's pain on another, no matter how voluntary it was. Hated that it was necessary. Hated being the tool for it. Hated it. Hated it.

A cold turkey sandwich and two slices of cold Surf's Up Surprise pizza slid into view. Arthur closed his notebook, accepting the plate with a sigh.

 _"Thank you, Mr. Pepper." You do not raise your eyes. Better not to see his accusatory stare. He does not like you. You can taste the tension and hostility._

That was not the only scent in the air, Arthur noted, but he still didn't feel up to facing Timothy eye to eye.

Timothy had been the only one absent from the entire experiment, so he had continued to do what he did best; cook for the team. No feast was forthcoming, but Arthur spied a lasagna of impressive depth parked in one oven.

"Mrs. Pepper? Mrs. how is? Pepper how?"

Arthur had to credit Timothy for never ceasing to find ways to communicate what he meant to say.

 _"She is unhappy at having to willfully recreate the scenarios that led to your current state. She has asked to be alone for her break." Ah, you forgot. "Although she has mentioned she would appreciate some leftovers outside her door and promises to eat them herself. I can take—"_

"Unbother, don't necessary." Timothy waved a hand, grabbing a plate and opening the fridge.

Glumly, Arthur chewed his pizza, turning over the other matter at hand.

 _You can be outwitted and outmaneuvered by every female of this infernal family._

Arthur had debriefed everyone but Dib on findings from that session and Dulcie had approached him, promising an answer. She could show Arthur Dib's worst fears, but only if he had some idea of how to fix what he broke.

It would be much easier to proceed by figuring things out as they witnessed the data. Dulcie was asking for a prediction, some sort of theory, before they went any further. Arthur needed to know how to crack Dib and Dulcie needed to know he could be put back together.

Unsteady footsteps made their way to the far end of the room and out, replaced by a steadier stride coming right for him. He caught a glimpse of yellow out of the corner of his eye moments before a pair of arms circled his waist.

"Hey. How goes it?"

Arthur released a slow sigh, spreading his arms out in an over-exaggerated shrug. Twisting around on the stool, he hugged Kay back.

When he released her, she pulled up a stool and hopped up on it. "Dib's stable. Mom put him to sleep so he can recuperate for the next round. You still trying to figure out Dulcie's terms?"

Arthur dragged the pen in circles around that part of the page, trying not to pay attention to the mangled plastic end.

She poked his shoulder hard. "Come on, now. Talk to me. Ask me stuff. I have the experience, you have the loophole-mastery. Maybe we can figure something out."

 _"You used your voice to heal and guide me before. Tell me what happens when you do that."_

"Define 'what happens'."

 _"What do you do? How do you craft a song that knows me so well?" You dig the pen through a few layers of paper. "Saying what kind of song it is doesn't help me. Song of guidance. Song of healing. Song of life. What makes it that? How do you make a sound that understands me when I've forgotten it myself?"_

Kay covered his hand with hers, stilling it. "You're really silly sometimes, you know that? The song doesn't know you, I know you. I just turn what I know into music. I know what freedom feels like. I know what being alive feels like." She nudged his shoulder with hers. "I know you."

 _Knowledge crafts the song. It wasn't the gift of song itself you stole from Kay, it was knowledge the Mind Drinker took. Innate ability to give proper form to the music from her will. In death, Lewis could give form to objects from his will without knowing every detail of how it came about. We change our form with knowledge stolen from the memories of the Shiker._

 _Four sirens tried to stop your advance on Hades and Zeus, but Demeter's hold was too strong. It wasn't until Kay joined that the tide turned. The others didn't know you, not like Kay did. She knew you more deeply than Demeter could ever hope to, and it was only then that you were free of Demeter._

 _Dulcie claims she has knowledge of how to get Dib's fears. You wonder if she could also find his deepest longings. If he feels those longings are seen and acknowledged, would that be sufficient? Is it that simple?_

 _"Thank you, Kay." You close the notebook. "I think that is what I needed. I have to speak with Dulcie."_

Kay nodded. "I'll grab a bite to eat and round everyone up for the next session."

 _"And, Kay? The pizza was great. Thank you."_

She wrinkled her nose, sticking out her tongue. "Don't count on it being a regular thing."

Arthur smiled, then ducked out of the kitchen.

….

Kay finished the turkey sandwich Arthur left behind. He may not have been hungry enough to finish but there was no sense letting good leftovers go to waste. The empty plate slid away from her across the countertop, sliding over the edge into Lewis' waiting hands.

Swallowing a mouthful of sandwich, Kay coughed and pointed at the dish. "Telekinetic now?"

Lewis shrugged. "Well, the plate doesn't really exist anyway. I just needed things to hold food." He stuck the dish in the sink. "Now I can make water to wash it, but Dib said that's not really water either."

Kay snorted. "You're going to wash a dish that isn't there with water that isn't there? Why don't you just make the plate vanish?"

Lewis raised a finger to point at her, then stopped, considering. With a sheepish shrug, he snapped his fingers and the plate disappeared. "You've got a point."

Kay let the grin fall from her face and leaned across the counter toward Lewis. "Hey, Lewis. I need to ask you a favor. I want to learn sign language."

He tapped a finger to his temple, smirking at her. "I wondered, what with that extra test you asked for."

"Yeah. Well." She looked down at her hands, clearing her throat. "I mean, that's part of it, I want to learn to be fluent. But. I also need to know how to say one sentence in particular. And I was wondering if you could teach that to me now? I think I'll be using it soon."

Lewis leaned toward her, one eyebrow raised. "Go on. I'm listening."

….

 **Note:** Chapter title excerpted from The Secret Life of Dr. Calgori by Abney Park.


	26. I Will Survive

Dulcie crossed her arms, jutting her chin out and doing her best to look stern. She liked Arthur, but Arthur wasn't always trustworthy anymore and since Dib couldn't take care of himself in this situation, she had to make sure he'd be okay.

"You're _sure?_ " she pressed.

Arthur shook his head. "Of course I'm not sure. This is all completely new territory, but it's the best I've got right now."

His voice was different than it used to be. It was colder and when he talked his eyes turned green and his face got lines in it. Kay promised it was really him though and Dulcie had seen it for herself in his dreams.

Reluctantly, she unfolded her arms. "Okay. I'm not sure it's gonna work because I've never taken anybody with me, but we'll try."

He tilted his head to the side, a blank look on his face. "Taken… anybody?"

Dulcie reached a hand up to Chloe's muzzle. "We're gonna go dreamwalking."

Arthur's jaw went slack for a moment, then a grin snapped into place. His eyes went brown and his fingers flew. **I thought I saw you once or twice. Clever. How?**

Dulcie shrugged. "Not sure how. Happens when I go to sleep near Chloe."

"It does?" Chloe's eyes widened. "Uso daro!"

Dulcie sighed. She pulled Chloe's muzzle down and rested her forehead just under the twisted horn. "Chloe, I'm gonna tell you something. I've told you before, but every time I tell you, you forget it really quickly."

"Oh." Chloe's eyelids drooped. "Gomen, Dulcie-chan."

"No, don't be sorry. It's not your fault. It's just that you and I go around all our friends' dreams and help them have a better night's sleep. We're like secret warriors."

Chloe's ears perked, her head lifting some. This part always cheered Chloe up, but it saddened Dulcie that waking-Chloe could never hold onto it. "Secret warrior sisters! Oh, that's wonderful! How do we do it?"

"Just go to sleep. Then you'll remember how."

Chloe glanced over at Arthur. "And you're sure about… him?"

Dulcie grinned, then straightened her back and dropped her voice low. "Of course I'm not sure. This is all completely new territory, but it's the best I've got right now."

Chloe lifted a knee to her mouth, whickering softly. Even Arthur snorted, sticking his tongue out a little.

"Ikusuru!" Chloe shook her mane out and clambered up on the plush bed in their room, settling with a soft _whump_.

Dulcie followed, nestling against her belly. "We all have to be careful with Dib's dream, though. He dreams different. Once I got caught by a monster there and I woke up with scratches."

Chloe pawed the bedspread with a hoof, tearing the quilt. "Zettai ni mamoru."

"I know you will." Dulcie patted Chloe's side. With a snort, the great golden eyes drifted closed.

"What about us?" Arthur asked.

"You fall asleep too. Think you gotta be touching Chloe."

Arthur grimaced, but circled around and sat on the other side of Chloe, leaning against her back. "Good enough?"

"Probably. You're gonna have to find the worst fear yourself, but I can point you the right way. Whenever we get close to Dib, the monsters leave him alone, then he knows something's up. So Chloe and I gotta go the other way."

"Fine. In that case, you search for his deepest need. You're more likely to find it than we are."

Dulcie closed her eyes. "Takes me a little bit to go to sleep, but not very long. Chloe's real relaxing. See you soon, Arthur."

…..

It was a little satisfying to see both Arthurs cringe when they entered Dib's dreamworld. This place was awful in every way, down to the moldy colors and rotten smells. Terrible. But she and Chloe had been handling it for days now and nothing here was too scary anymore.

Just like she'd seen the last time she peeked in on Arthur's dream, there were two of him standing side by side. One looked around with a slack-jawed horror while the other took it in with a tight-lipped frown.

She grabbed their hands and pulled them into the shadow of a building, out of sight. "Listen. Dib's a lot younger here most of the time. You're looking for a boy my age, probably yelling that he's not crazy. He says that a lot here."

The tight-lipped one, Acrturus, stared at her narrowly. "Is that his fear?"

"That's what you came to figure out." She pointed across a city of crooked skyscrapers and houses wrapped in thick wire. "There's a place that way with a big sign that says Skool. Most of the bad dream stuff happens there."

The frightened Artie signed to her, **Where are you going?**

She drew herself up. "Told you. Gonna find what he needs, like you said."

He gestured around himself, opening and closing his fingers uselessly.

"Yeah, I know it doesn't look like there'd be anything here, but there's always something. Even a little clue." She grinned, tweaking the rainbow clip in her hair. "Maybe today's the day I find it."

 **You'll be safe?**

A derisive snort washed over the top of her curls. "Do not ask silly questions." Chloe pulled up alongside and knelt, waiting patiently as Dulcie scrambled up to her back. Dulcie wound her hands into Chloe's withers, noticing Arcturus had backed up a lot. Artie looked a lot more relaxed around Chloe.

"Do we need to find you in order to exit this dream?" asked Arcturus.

Dulcie paused. "Um. I never brought anybody before. I don't always have to be with Chloe to get out, though, so I don't think so. Just find what you need and wake up fast. The monsters don't like intruders."

Artie swallowed, nodding.

"Don't let Dib see you, or he'll know what you're doing when he wakes up. He knows I've been around his dreams when they get nicer, so." She shrugged. "Be careful."

Arcturus smiled in a way that sent chills down her spine. As she watched, all color in him faded to black. In a moment, he was nothing more than a shadow. Then he grabbed Artie's shoulder and turned him another shadow.

"Don't worry about us. We can handle ourselves."

And then it was just Chloe and Dulcie behind the building.

Dulcie looked down at Chloe. "We haven't looked for good things before, just tried to chase off the bad things. Where do we start? Do you have any good-dream-sensors?"

Chloe laughed, craning her neck around to fix Dulcie with one golden eye. "Nothing so easy, of course. We know where his home is, though. We should start there."

Dulcie tensed. Dib's home was the one place the monsters really, really hated them going into. It was the only place they started fighting back.

"Do not worry, dear one." Chloe shook her head, giving one decisive stomp of her foreleg. "I will protect you."

Nodding, Dulcie bent forward over Chloe's neck, clinging tight as Chloe's muscles bunched under her legs. They shot from the alley, a streak of white against the grimy surroundings. Dib's house wasn't too far from where they had landed, but there were plenty of crawlers roaming the streets in between. They scattered like roaches as Chloe approached, screeching warning as Chloe stormed toward Dib's home.

Dulcie heard an unearthly cry and lifted her head for a moment. A spindle-limbed figure stood at the edge of town, as tall as two skyscrapers and swathed from head to toe in auburn curls. From forehead to gut was an open hole of a mouth, the sides undulating with the force of its beautiful cry, a song. The creature's attention was fixed on something on another part of town, though.

Dulcie turned back and buried her face in Chloe's mane. She would recognize that voice and that hair anywhere. This monster was brand new here and not one she was ready to face either sleeping or waking.

Chloe burst through Dib's front door, taking a portion of the wall along with it.

"Go, Dulcie-Chan. I will guard the front," Chloe urged, sidling up to a sloped couch. Dulcie tumbled onto the cushions, rolling off and to her feet quickly. "And don't try to fight those two by yourself!" Chloe called, sternly. "Shout for me if they attack!"

Dulcie just hoped "those two" weren't home. She didn't want to wake up covered in scratches again, or worse.

She darted for the stairs leading to the second story. The basement just had rusty old equipment and on her last exploration here, she'd tried the upstairs room on the left. That had been a scary mistake. This time she went to the room on the right. Her hand closed on the doorknob.

The door behind her—the one on the left—creaked. Panicked, she shoved her way into the room, slamming the door behind her. She knew the monster from the other room would come through this door any second now. Spinning around, she looked for anything she could use as a weapon.

It was a shadowy room, lit only by a wall-to-wall bank of computer screens. Each one flickered with a different image. There were words written on the walls, but she couldn't make them out. A printer at the far end of the room spat glossy photos out, filling the room waist-high with pictures of different kinds of monsters. She waded into the room, struggling against the piles of photographs.

A window next to the printer blew open and a hideous face poked in, hanging upside down. "Tresspasser!" the creature hissed, dropping in through the window. It was a bent girl with limbs twisted for leaping like a kangaroo. Purple hair framed a face with only the upper jaw intact and a row of teeth dripping, drooling to bite. The light from the window allowed enough light to read the words scrawled on the walls.

 **SOMEBODY** **BELIEVE ME!**

"Chloe!" she screamed. "Chl-!"

… **..**

 _This is exhilarating. You could not have asked for a better battleground. Here there is no cost to any form you take because it is not real. You slip from shadow to shadow, an invisible team. The stench of fear is strong in this place and why wouldn't it be? The creatures you pass are walking jail cells drooling for prisoners, living straightjackets crawling along on their own strips of shredded cloth, and giant mouth-beasts on two legs._

 _You do not blame Dib for minimizing sleep if this is the world he is consigned to every time he shuts his eyes._

 _It will take too long to get to the Skool if you must slink along like this. Becoming like one of these creatures is no trouble. You give yourself a familiar shape, reaching for the Shiker's favorite form. Long bones and leathery wings. A leering, bat-like skull. It is as simple as turning your thoughts to it, for there is no physical transformation within the mind._

 _Artie does not change further than the shadowy form you forced on him. This frustrates you. Lowering your skull, you hiss, "If you will not blend in with them, then blend in with me. Stretch yourself out to become my shadow."_

 _He is reluctant, it is distasteful to him to associate with the Shiker in form or thought. He knows it is a good disguise for this place, though, and shortly you have a matching shadow, connected at the feet. You emerge from the hidden paths, loping along the streets. Your shadow keeps pace, matching your movements._

 _The Skool is in sight when your legs give out from under you and you crash to the ground, immobile. You scramble to understand what happened._

Arthur drew himself up the bones of Arcturus, racing along the spine and wrapping his shadowy form about the ears. The wail had begun a moment before Arcturus collapsed and now it began affecting Artie. He clamped himself tighter around the head, even as Arcturus got the hint and held Artie closer.

 _Of course. There is a new fear that has found root in this place. There would be a siren here. You stagger back to your feet, securing Artie to your head with extra bone growths. He must be your barrier to the sound, for now. You hurry on toward the Skool, peering in the windows along the side one at a time._

 _There. In one classroom, you see it. A young boy in a black trenchcoat, standing in front of a classroom and screaming. You cannot hear him, but Artie, now writhing about your head, can hear everything. Young Dib is screaming for the misshapen children to plug their ears-stab them if they have to. They are all sprawled across their desks. At the back of the classroom stands a tall man wrapped fully in a floor-length white jacket, deep in conversation with a floating computer screen._

 _A hideous figure leans over the Skool building, a giant mound of auburn hair supported by four spindly, corkscrew limbs. It makes sense that in this nightmare realm, Teles would be represented by a creature that is mostly mouth._

 _You shrink yourself smaller, reverting to shadow. We mingle together to become one shadow, though our senses still come through Artie's protective filter. We slide through a crack in the window. Blood drips from the children's ears onto the desks and down to the floor. Their bulbous faces are peaceful, dream-like. The man in the back pays no mind to anything but the computer screen. Dib is the only one screaming._

 _There is another figure we did not see at first. It stands near Dib, a small monster with a green head atop a red-and-black striped bell of a body. It has red orbs for eyes and teeth like an open zipper. Two slick, black antennae twitch atop its hairless head and it is laughing at Dib._

 _"Why can't you believe me?" Dib shrieks, clutching a piece of chalk in his hands. "I have all the proof! You just have to plug your ears! Together we can defeat them, please somebody believe me!"_

 _The song changes and its notes combine with the grating voice of the small green monster. "It is no use, foolish Earth-creature! I have control. I have won. And you, you will tell me how to raze the surface of this miserable rock flat or split it open or shatter it into a thousand pieces. I don't care how, but tell me how to destroy this planet!"_

 _"No!" Dib shouts, even as his hand rises to the chalkboard. The chalk rasps across the surface as he fills the space with calculations and diagrams. "Stop! Make it stop!" he sobs. "Dad! You have to believe me! Stop building the energy machine, it has so many weaknesses!"_

 _Behind him, the first dead child raises its head and moans, "Dib is killing us! We always knew he was crazy, now he's a traitor!"_

 _"It isn't me!" Dib screams. "It's not my fault, you never helped me! Nobody ever believes-"_

 _"Traitor!" another groans, standing to her feet and shuffling toward him. "Traitor! Murderer! You're going to let us all die!"_

 _The children shuffle toward Dib, grabbing hold of him and dragging him down to the ground as they pile onto him, gnashing their teeth. Only his arm remains visible, clutching the piece of chalk and straining to reach the chalkboard as he screams for his father, who merely chuckles at "the games children play." The green monster spreads spindly black arms and laughs long and loud as the ceiling splits apart above us…_

… **..**

Dulcie came to very suddenly, a sharp sting on her cheek. Her head wobbled as her eyes flew open. Arthur's face was grim, the eyes narrowed and searching. The moment she opened her eyes, he released a long breath through his nose and dropped his head. She lifted her hand to her cheek, eyes wide.

He glanced up once more and his eyes widened. Seizing her shoulder he flung her off the bed. She hit the ground with a cry and, behind her, Arthur gave a loud grunt.

She turned to see Chloe thrashing on the bed, great red streaks running down her hide. Arthur lay on the ground a few feet away, doubled over with his eyes clenched tight. Chloe was all flying hooves and tossing head. Above, a single Deadbeat circled, crying a repeating one-note alarm.

Light poured off her, but it was different than her healing glow. This light sliced out in short, sickle waves. It passed through Dulcie and she felt a light tingle, but nothing happened.

Behind her, Arthur cried out. Now he was several feet further, still sprawled helplessly on the ground. Another wave of light struck him, hurling him against the wall. His head sagged and blood trickled from his mouth.

The door cracked open. Kay didn't even pause, darting to Arthur's side. She spread her arms to shield him, feathers sprouting as fast as she could form them, but the light passed straight through her to strike Arthur. Lewis materialized over Chloe, grabbing her by the ears and yanking. The ensuing blast from Chloe rippled Lewis' form like throwing a rock into a pond. Arthur went limp.

Chloe reared up, flailing hooves for purchase on the bed before rolling off to tumble heavily to the floor. Lewis remained frozen in place over the bed, the ripples slowing gradually. Dulcie dashed over to Chloe's side.

"Chloe! Are you okay?"

Chloe's eyes rolled around in their sockets, foam flecking her muzzle. "Dulcie? It hurts. Why?"

Dulcie's chest tightened. The red streaks on Chloe's hide looked like claw marks and they were deep. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… we really upset them this time."

"Nani o itterunda?!" Chloe cried.

A large hand seized her arm, drawing her around to face a terrifying skull with flames burning in its eyes. "Nobody else was in here. I would know. Who is 'them' and what did they do?" Lewis raised her arm and, for the first time, she realized she was bleeding, too. Bite marks peppered her arms and hands with deep punctures.

And Arthur had slapped her awake.

"It was my idea," she said, weakly. "I'm sorry." Trembling with shame, she began to explain.

 **…..**

 _Add this to the list of things that we never do again: entering Dib's dreams._

Agreed.

 _We have what we need, though. A light glamour is all it will take to push him over the edge and that will cost us nothing._

This will cost us, though, won't it? Repairing ourself?

 _It will cost us, but her kick broke bones and ruptured organs. Her magic did further widespread damage and now we have burst vessels and disintegrating tissue everywhere. We have no choice._

Why can't she heal us? It was never a problem before we became this... whatever we are.

 _You carry the body of the Shiker within you. The Shiker, who harvested unicorn horn, is likely unable to benefit from its healing properties. Immunized, you could say. Not immunized, however, to the other effects of unicorn magic. Say, the kind that sends great evil fleeing by its mere presence?_

I guess slowly rupturing from the inside out is a pretty strong deterrent for any evil. But how the hell does the magic know what is evil and what is not?

 _Questions for another day. Right now, target the worst of the injuries and begin replacing those cells._

How much time will we lose?

 _You don't know. You won't know until you finish repairs. You are dimly aware of being held and someone calling you. A thought occurs to you, briefly… but Artie would never allow it._

What exactly would I not allow?

 _It doesn't have to be our time we consume. We could draw energy from those around us._

No.

 _It would be barely any time stolen if we spread the cost out to them! It might not even cost them any more than a few hours of exhaustion if enough of them help._

No.

 _Anger floods you. It is your job to sustain our life, not Artie's. If they knew you bore the consequences without asking for help the others would be as furious with him as you are now. Shoving him hard, you reach up to the person holding you—Kay, of course—and touch her temple. Minor information transfer. She'll understand. Just a little—_

 _Everything spins. Minor efforts become major when you are drowning in your own fluids._

 _But there it is. She holds us tighter. Her answer._

No, Kay!

 _We need this._

Don't hurt her!

 _One day. That is all. One day from her will lessen the cost to us and she is willing! You reach into her, drawing on her strength and energy to begin repairing yourself. One day less in the lifespan of a siren is nothing and she is willing. You will not apologize for keeping us alive. You refuse. We will survive._

…

 **Note:** Heavy references to the Halloweenies episode of Invader Zim, wherein we learn that Dib has a literal nightmare world trapped in his head. Yes, dear MSA readers, this nightmare world is Invader Zim canon. Our dear Dib is a tad disturbed. Chapter title excerpted from Gloria Gaynor's song I will Survive.


	27. Stepping Forward Out Into The Day

"And then! Then she gets all huffy with me and says, 'I knew what I was doing, are you going to treat me like I'm five forever?' And she sent me off!"

Vivi followed Lewis with her eyes as he hit the end of his pacing path—the right side of their room—and spun around, pumping his fists with every step. His skull blazed a good two feet of flame above the crown with a blaze that trailed behind him like a mane.

She wanted to hold Lewis but he was too agitated. Each new mini-disaster added a fresh bruise to her spirit, threatening to tip her too far up or down. She closed her eyes, wondering if this was a sort of balancing-act exhaustion Squire felt.

"What am I supposed to say to that?" He'd thrown up his hands again, waving them around his head in tight little circles. "She's my sister, of course I'm going to be mad when he uses her like a battery! Am I supposed to like it? Tell him to go ahead and top-up off her lifespan whenever he needs to because, hey, who actually gives a rip if she lives or dies as long as _Arthur_ survives, right, Arcturus?"

Vivi snapped, "Don't be ridiculous, Lew. Gods, sometimes you can be so dense."

Lewis froze, the flames around his skull sputtering.

Wincing, she drew the bed quilt up around her like a hood, lowering her head. "Sorry. I didn't… mean that." She took a slow breath in. "I mean, it's obvious that Kay is wound up in Arthur's survival. I'm sure Arcturus gets that and wouldn't draw from her unless he had to. I bet Artie's giving him just as much what-for as you would right now, if not more."

Lewis left his pacing path and sat on the edge of the bed. If his prickly flames were any indication, he was still mad, but making an effort to control it. Reaching out, he tugged the quilt aside, peering into the hood. "Vee?"

Ignoring his concern, she asked, "How's Chloe? Dulcie?"

"Chloe started healing herself and Dulcie right away, they'll be fine. Vee?"

"What."

"Has it been bad for you lately?"

She didn't answer. Moments later, huge, warm arms wrapped around her from behind. She leaned her head back against his chest, soaking in the heat. "I'm just tired. I miss Mystery, that stupid son of a pickle stick. I really need things to go back to some kind of normal soon."

There was a heavy sigh behind her, and she shook her head. "I know it can't be normal like it used to be, but we can make a new kind of normal, right?" Her throat thickened. "And I think mine is going to include meds. Whatever Mystery was supposed to be doing for me, he really hasn't had my back on it for a while, now. I don't know if he was too distracted or what, but I can't… I'm tired. Too much swinging wild."

Lewis' hand cupped her chin, tilting her head back to stare upside down into his eyes. "You know that even on meds, you'll still be Vivi."

She offered a crooked smile. "I guess I'll need you to stick around and remind me every now and then, huh?"

Lewis' eyes dimmed. "Vivi," he murmured, "I don't know if… I mean, I promised you your memories back."

The smile backflipped into a glare. She reached up and grabbed him by the eyesockets, yanking his skull off and around to face her. "Listen here, you scorched marshmallow slick. If you think for one second I would trade you being here to get the full impact of my memories you've got another think coming. I don't want to hear another word about giving my memories back if it means you're going to disappear, capiche?"

The hollows of his eyes glowed like warm embers and his jawline curved up. From behind, his hands stroked her hair gently. "Of course, Vee."

….

 _You refuse to apologize. You refuse. We are saved and we only took enough energy to repair fatal injuries. The bones we can heal on our own strength—not instantaneous, but accelerated beyond human ability._

Give it back. Every drop.

 _No. She knew. She agreed. Didn't she?_

How dare you.

 _You crane your neck back to look at Kay. "You agreed, yes? You understood?" Your lungs constrict. What if she did not understand? Did not agree? This… this somehow matters._

Of course it matters. You should never have done this in the first place. If you ever do it again, I will reject you completely.

 _Your air supply keeps cutting off at random, but it is no injury. She has not answered. "Cayenne?"_

 _Her face is creased, her jaw clenched. You have hurt her._

Of course you did! It nearly knocks us out to borrow from our future, did you think it would tickle her?

"Stop."

 _Her voice cuts through the argument. There is nothing to argue about. Did we even mean to argue? No, we didn't mean to argue. So sorry, so sorry._

 _"No. I'm… I'm sorry. Didn't mean to command." Her spine straightens with painful slowness. Can she still hear us? We are still gripping her arms, did we maintain a connection?_

 _"I hear you." Each word rides the smallest breath out. "Artie. I understood. Now… you need to."_

What? What do I need to do?

"Understand." Her hand cupped his face. "What you are to me. I will not lose you."

 _You are speechless. Smelling her emotions is one thing, hearing it…_

She had never said it to him. Arthur swallowed hard, lifting his hand to cover the one on his face.

"You're not the only one who gets to go around saving what you love."

….

Dulcie listened to Kay from her nest, a tangle of blankets tucked into the curve of her prone friend's neck. Chloe wasn't bleeding anymore and Dulcie had only a few bruises left.

She picked at a thread on the quilt. Kay didn't used to speak up like that to anyone. Not really. If she ever talked back to Lewis she was just kidding, not for serious like she did a minute ago. She didn't sass Mom like Aji and did everything perfect. First flier, best at keeping her songs to herself, always competing for sous chef with Lewis at the Paradiso.

The thread came free and Dulcie rolled it between her fingers. She knew Kay was talking about a love that was different than the feelings she had, but there were things she wanted to protect, too, and people that needed saving. One of them had been waiting much too long for it already. She let them sit in silence for a few minutes more, then cleared her throat.

"A… Arthur?" she piped up, glancing over. Green eyes narrowed at her over Kay's shoulder. "S-sorry. But I, um. I think I found what Dib wants. It was in his house. Written on his walls." She dropped her eyes. "He wants someone to believe in him."

"Good work." Arthur's voice was all creaky and tired. "But it's more than that. I saw it in his classroom, too. His father was there, ignoring him and all his proof."

Dulcie's eyes widened, remembering all Dib's harsh words about his father. The way he seemed to get angry and closed down when the rest of them were having a good time together. "He wants his family to believe in him? But they can't, he said his dad died."

Arthur sighed. "Unfortunate. Nngh." He winced as Kay scrubbed the blood from his face with her wrist feathers. "Even if they were around, his inner portrait of family members paints them as far less empathetic than he. Proving him right would mean signing our death warrants."

Nibbling her lip, Dulcie drew her brows together. "What if…" she trailed off, realizing the size of the thing she was about to say.

But Arthur was quick, his brown eyes wide as he stared at her. He'd probably picked up the other half of her thought. He was awfully smart.

"You know," he mused, the hardness around his eyes softening a little. "If you don't feel safe with your mother yet, it's entirely possible another member of the family being around could help you feel safer. But Kay might not be around you much longer. And Lewis is getting pretty attached to Vivi, and…" he trailed off, eyes averted. Dulcie lowered her head. She still didn't know how to feel about Aji being gone. "Point is, your family has adopted before."

Kay's eyes widened. "Arthur, what are you saying?"

Dulcie shook her head. "He's just saying what I'm already thinking. I think we should adopt Dib, Kay."

"Wh-what? But… I mean, I hardly know him! A-and he's a grown man!" Kay protested.

"You hardly knew Lewis," Dulcie pointed out. "You were just my age, right? Wasn't your choice neither. Was Mom and Dad's choice. And even grown-ups want to be wanted. 'Sides, you're not gonna be around much longer. Arthur's right." She patted Chloe's nose and rose to her feet.

"What's th-that supposed to mean?" Kay sputtered.

Dulcie rolled her eyes. "Adults are so weird. You don't have to pretend to be confused. I'm not a baby." Dulcie headed for the door, then paused to address Arthur. "Don't let Artie wait too long, okay? Sometimes he needs a push."

Even though she liked Artie more than Arcturus, she felt a rush of satisfaction at the sly green-eyed grin he shot her. Bracing herself, she called for the Deadbeat that usually hung out nearby. It was time to talk to her parents—both of them.

….

 **Note:** Wow, so, a ton of stuff has happened IRL since I last posted. Shorter-than-usual chapter because it's really just taking care of a few in-between bits. The next chapter is the real meat of it, and I think we're in the final stretch (seven or less chapters to go) of this fic. For those of you who don't follow me on Tumblr and don't know me on Facebook… I'm engaged. It's kind of a trip thinking about how my first Saga (the Resilience Saga) started out with me road-tripping up to college. Here I am, still writing fic, and I am now engaged and I couldn't be happier about it. Life's funny, and for me fic has been one of the few stable threads persisting throughout. Surreal. Also I'm going back through the Thicker Than Water Tales and editing/revising. I'm already halfway through Best Served Cold. Also I'm about to age up in just over a week. ALSO I'm in process on a Pat. Reon. page (separated because this site hates mentioning other sites). Lots of stuff going down! Chapter title excerpted from The Weight of Living by Bastille.


	28. Some Days I Can't Even Trust Myself

It had never been clearer to Dib how much of a mistake he had made. The fact that it was only clear to him when he was alone made everything worse. Now that he'd experienced how much of a cloud the siren call laid over his mind and desires, he struggled to find a way out of his predicament. Mr. Pepper would just have to fix his problem himself, it was not worth Dib's sanity.

He'd woken in a cold sweat from his nightmares, alone on a cot in the testing chamber. A meal had been left by the door, which was locked. A Deadbeat perched atop the dummy's head, watching him.

Raking a hand through his hair, he breathed in slowly through his nose. He'd been in worse situations and these creatures weren't hostile. He just had to persuade them that the testing was a failure. Surely they could come up with some other way. Why did he have to be the sacrifice, here?

Because Timothy's current state was his fault. Or, at least, partly his fault. Given what he'd seen of Teles' behavior, it was unlikely she enjoyed bringing Dib under her control any more than he wanted it to happen. Refusing to eat. Refusing to speak. Submitting voluntarily to bondage and restraints. Any other subject dragged to his laboratory had defied him. Yet this sad creature…

He stood, abruptly, crossing the room to slam his forehead into the wall once. This did not sound like the thoughts of a paranormal researcher, it sounded like the thoughts of a smitten little boy. He would not be smitten!

Did he even have a choice? If this was his state after one session, these thoughts would do nothing but root themselves deeper with every exposure. He cursed himself for allowing this to happen. Cursed his desperation for approval. Cursed his childish belief that they all meant him well. Nobody ever wanted him to succeed, nobody backed him. Why should this group be any different?

A hand on his shoulder. He recoiled, putting his forearms up in front of himself. She was standing there, that creature. Looking at him with those sad eyes. She couldn't be called unearthly, she had been here longer than he. Still, there was a quality about her he often saw in aliens he encountered. It was the sense of being examined by a star, a star that had to keep staring lest it blink and miss his existence. Ageless stood before him with all the control in the world.

It was thrilling.

Mortifying.

He kept his defensive stance with an effort, even as his pulse picked up and excitement replaced dread bit by bit.

"Mrs. Pepper," he said, forcing a curt tone. "To what do I owe the personal visit? I thought we were testing in separate rooms. Where is Vivi?"

She lifted her chin, returning his coldness. "I think we're past testing, now. It's clear your will is broken enough."

Slivers of anxiety needled through the pleasure of being spoken to. He kept his expression flat. "Is that so?"

"It is. So, it is time."

Oh, she was still speaking to him. Her every syllable was like spun silk through his ears, but his stomach twisted. Was something wrong? It was getting harder to tell. His face relaxed. "Time for what? Do tell." He hoped she would explain in great detail.

Instead she reached behind her and opened the door.

The spell shattered. Dib threw himself backward, acting on muscle memory before his mind stopped stuttering over itself. A blast of laser fire sailed over his head as he seized a table, toppling it for cover.

"Not possible!" he shouted.

A high-pitched maniacal laugh was his only response.

"You died!" Dib shrieked, clutching his head in his hands. "I saw you die! She killed you!"

The laugh expanded, filling the room like Dib had just told the best joke in the history of the human race.

"Just another dream." Dib slapped himself across the face. "Wake up. Wake up."

"Sadly for you, this is quite real." That monster's self-assured, smug voice hadn't changed much. Dib couldn't bring himself to peek around the table.

"No. No, this is a trick! Zim died!" Even as he said it, his body relaxed. He'd invited a team of paranormal creatures to take over his labs, this was just one of their tests on him. He just had to figure out how they were pulling it off.

Then Teles spoke, and his thoughts slowed. "We met Zim before we came to you, Dib. This was always the plan."

Dib raked his fingers across his face, eyes wide. It couldn't be. But he couldn't see any holes when she spoke. Shouldn't there be holes in this story? It didn't really fit, but… why couldn't he think of another explanation?

"And now, Dib," Zim purred, "It's time to end this little charade. If you would be so kind, demonstrate on the whiteboard the best way to destroy the planet."

Did Zim really used to talk like that? He couldn't remember it correctly. Was it really—

"Demonstrate on the whiteboard the best way to destroy the planet, Dib." Honey-sweet words from the siren's lips, and Dib toppled over the upset table, scrambling blindly for the whiteboard.

"No!" A cry wrenched from his throat, but somehow at a distance from himself. All that mattered was obedience. There was no cost too great. That his guts felt like shrapnel sliced in from all directions was of no consequence. His screams of denial amounted to nothing, nothing when stacked against the pleasure of diagramming his father's greatest creation—long abandoned in the depths of Membrane Inc. Labs. The Perpetual Energy Generator, or PEG as he used to call it. So much promise, but so many flaws. There were at least a dozen weak points that could cause an overload capable of citywide destruction, and that would be the best case scenario. He labeled every flaw with care and pointed out the weaknesses with colorful arrows, tears streaming down his cheeks.

From the doorway, that hideous monstrosity was laughing at him. Reveling in his humiliation.

"Why?" Dib wailed. "You'll die! This is your world too, Teles! He won't let you live, whatever he promised!"

"I'm sure the alien will keep his word." Oh, her passionless response was music to his soul. "I and my family will be spared. Messengers from the stars do not lie, unlike humans. You say only whatever benefits you. Born liars, all of you. Especially you."

A dagger twisted in Dib's chest and bile rose in his throat.

Finally, Dib collapsed to the ground, dry heaving even as he reveled in the pleasure of knowing he had obeyed Teles, had carried out her decree. The diagram was complete, he had left nothing out.

And lo, her voice again, instructing him. "Now, Dib. Erase the whiteboard. Once you have erased it, forget the last fifteen minutes. Forget about Zim. Forget that I came in. Forget that you betrayed the world. We will carry out the rest of the plan, you do not have to remember any of it."

Sobbing—with joy, surely?—Dib did as he was bid.

…..

Arthur didn't hate Dib at all. He even sort of liked him, which is what made it so difficult to be part of this charade.

With several broken ribs and a fractured vertebrate to heal, Arthur was confined to a wheelchair for a few days. He stayed in the doorway, keeping the glamour close to cover him. Half his efforts were directed toward self-recovery, so he couldn't produce a more thorough glamour. In the end it didn't matter. Every time Dib's readouts flickered toward higher critical thinking, Arthur would signal Teles to speak to Dib again. At this point, Dib was so dependent on hearing her voice that even conversational communication flooded his pleasure and addiction centers with stimulation.

With all the distortion in Dib's dreamscape, Arthur doubted the glamour image he presented was an exact representation of Dib's old enemy. The voice, however, he had practiced hard to get down, stretching and flattening his vocal cords until he got the right pitch. Even in the dreamscape there was something so cuttingly clear about that voice that he knew it would be Dib's strongest association to Zim. When his practice drew the attention of Torque—Dib's old Skoolmate—Arthur knew he'd gotten it right. And in the end, Dib was too wrapped up in Teles' commands to inspect the glamour Arthur pulled over himself. The deception carried itself well, ripping the rug right out from under Dib.

Even with the performance turned over to Arcturus, there was no enjoyment in it. Arthur supposed that was something of an improvement. When the mental reset took hold of Dib and he collapsed, Teles pulled Arthur's wheelchair back out of the room, allowing the door to shut. This process would be repeated at least as many times as it had been done to Mr. Pepper, a number Teles had quoted at sixteen, before they could assess if enough damage had been inflicted to be worth their attempt at healing.

They would let Dib rest for a few minutes. Arthur scribbled some thoughts onto his notepad.

Dib responds to neutral siren speech. Assess own response, asses Timothy's. Doesn't seem so strong. Maybe because Timothy = lengthy exposure, me = demonbrain?

 _"Not a demon!" you mutter, irritated. "That was a major mistake in your assumptions from the start. That sort of erroneous assumption could get us killed in the future."_

Arthur rolled his eyes. Splitting hairs hardly mattered now.

"Thank you."

Arthur's pen fell from his fingers and he twisted his head around to stare at Teles. Disgust and fear flowed off her whenever he was near, now, and here she thanked him?

Wouldn't look him in the eye, though. Her hair obscured her eyes and her knuckles were pale on the handles of his wheelchair. "Dulcie. She came to me. She spoke to me today. Talked about the future we might be able to make."

Arthur chose to say nothing, allowing Teles to continue speaking.

"That she's here at all… that she and Kay are here and whole… thank you."

 _You turn your eyes away to allow her some privacy before you respond. "We accept your gratitude. We also want to know, though. He—Artie—has wanted to know since before we became what we are now, but he couldn't speak it. Why did you just give up? Why didn't you fight for your own family?"_

 _Silence. She leaves you and enters the testing chamber, shutting the door behind her. You brace yourself for your next entrance. Dib is just as shocked as he was the first time, tuck-and-rolling away to the corner of a room. What did this Zim creature_ do _to him to hone reflexes like that? But Dib's critical thinking is a little lower this time and the readouts on his brain waves have already started to scatter._

 _You retreat from the room, Teles pulling you out as before. The ribs will take a couple of days to heal, at your rate, but you cannot lift anything or wheel yourself until then._

 _She breaks the silence. "I fought the curse for decades when my sisters and I were first abandoned on the island. At the end of the island's provisions, we held hands and plunged over the cliffs to the rocks below. My sisters passed straight into the hands of Hades while I lived on. I dragged myself up the cliffs and leaped over alone, sure it was merely a fluke, but no. I could see the vines around me redirect the plunge. Even when I struck rock, they cushioned my fall so I was merely bruised._

 _"I resolved, then, to starve. So I starved for a full year. You see, I was not even permitted that death."_

 _You had gathered this from bits and pieces, but it is different hearing her confess it herself._

 _"When I could stand it no more, I murdered passing crews for the supplies of their ships. I saw no way the curse could do more to me than it had already done, and yet when one sailor survived…" she falls silent. She passes me again, beginning the next cycle of Dib's torment._

 _When we next regroup, she continues. "Timothy survived. I wanted him to run, to flee before he became a part of my fate, but the vines had already chosen him. Yet even when we were wed and I was pregnant, there was some hope. Look, my firstborn was a daughter! There was no eldest son. The curse could not possibly come to pass."_

 _You can hear the bitter self-accusation in her voice. Fool siren, foolish creature to hope there was healing to be had. You allow her sorrow, for a moment, to be yours as well._

 _"Then on my doorstep appears an eldest son. I could not cast him out, the second he came into my sight the vines were upon him, already working to make him part of my story. It was then that I truly understood how futile it was to defy the gods."_

 _"So you tried to keep them in blissful ignorance as long as you could," you conclude._

 _"That," she says quietly, "and tried to deliver my youngest to Hades whenever the opportunity arose. It was the only defiance I had left and more desperation than defiance. She should never have had to see such a place as the Cage, much less live out her days there."_

 _You were not privy to the insides of the Cage, but you defer to Teles' knowledge of it with a single nod._

 _"But I could not think large enough. You did. You took the curse and used it against itself, smuggling in a chance at safety with Dulcie. You found ways around what was required to come to pass." She does not touch you, but she hovers close over you. "Thank you."_

 _Within yourself, you find an agreement. You are no longer angry with Teles, as you were when she hid her secrets from you. It fouled up your every attempt, but you understand why. She could not know that you would succeed. That you did succeed was a wonder, the mission should have fallen apart at each and every step._

" _Perhaps it is easier for a mortal with nothing left to lose to throw everything into a last, desperate gamble?" you ask, wryly._

 _She inclines her head. "Perhaps. If so, no wonder Zeus has tried to seal the realms away from such mortals."_

 _You sigh and face the door again. "I wish it was not this way. All of it."_

 _"But it is. All there is left to do is move forward." Finally, a hand on your shoulder. Hesitant, but there. "Isn't that the lesson you have taught?"_

 _A grin sits crooked on your face. "Still learning it myself."_

 _"Well. We've come this far. We keep on, now." She withdraws her hand and crosses to the door. There are over a dozen more simulations to run. Timothy and Dulcie are on hand, watching in the observation room. We are so close to finding an answer…_

….

After two resets, Dulcie crawled up into her dad's lap and hid her face in his chest, pulling off the headset and letting it drop. She felt dirty. Shameful. She'd crawled around inside Dib's head with Arthur and dragged his worst nightmares into reality. Who did that?

Her daddy's arms clasped tight around her. He wasn't allowed to wear the headset because of what Mom was doing, but he was staring straight at the scene as it unfolded through the one-way window. Vivi and Lewis huddled by the window, watching. All of Mom's, Arthur's, and Dib's words displayed on the screens off to the side that tracked Dib's brain. How could Daddy stand to watch it, knowing that's what happened to him?

"I'll never be like her," Dulcie promised fiercely into his shoulder. "I'll never use my voice on anybody ever, no matter how bad it gets. I promise, Daddy."

Fingers massaged her neck gently and a dry chuckle hung by her ear. "Isn't it funny, funny, I remember Kay telling telling me something like that, just as angry as this, but I don't remember who the 'her' she mentioned was. She must have must have meant Teles. Nobody wants to be like like Teles Teles, not even Teles."

Dulcie's face scrunched up, her shoulders pulled up close to her ears. Even Kay had wanted to do better, but she had to sing eventually. "I don't wanna be a monster!" she cried softly. "I wanna be just like you!"

He pulled away from her, lifting her chin to face a stern glare. His mouth worked fiercely, silent. He was scolding her for something, but since there was no sound she didn't know what he was saying. She shook her head, drooping.

He tugged her chin back up, his eyes squinting tighter. His eyes seemed to stop seeing her and his mouth slowed some. The words dragged out, each one an individual meeting with her ears. "Not. Monster." A longer pause. "My. Daughter. No. Matter. What."

She wished she could believe that. Once she fledged, though, everything was going to be different. She'd end up putting him under her control, too. It was never intentional, nobody tried to do it to Daddy. It just happened because he was always there. She didn't want him under her control. She didn't want anybody under her control. Maybe Dib would find a way to make it stop. He was a different kind of smart than Lewis, than Arthur, even. He'd find a way.

She risked a glance up. Dib was on the ground, gasping in a crumpled heap. The lines on the screen that tracked Dib's brain used to be clumped together neatly. Now they were large spaces in between them. The screen flashed red once, warning.

"Do we get to tell him yet?" she pleaded.

Daddy squeezed her shoulder once and shook his head. She knew they had to wait for Arthur's say-so, but she couldn't stand how miserable they were making Dib.

"Teles was so happy."

Dulcie peeked up at her Daddy's face as he spoke.

"Teles was so happy happy that her little girl talked to her again today. Even if even if Dulcie didn't look at her when she talked when she talked and didn't say anything about what happened. Teles was so happy Dulcie even wanted to maybe someday possibly be a sort of family family again. I've never seen her smile once while we have been here and down here's all the memory I have of her. When our little girl left, I saw a little barely-there barely-there smile on her face."

Dulcie took those words into her heart and held them there. She hoped they could make something out of this situation so that it was all worth it. Maybe someday in the future, she would be able to forgive Mom for trying to kill her. Maybe she could even forgive Aji for leaving like she did.

"I miss Aji." She was surprised at how deeply the words cut her to say. "She got scary recently, but she looked out for me more than Kay. Nobody made fun of my hair if she was around." She gave a little sobbing laugh. "She glared at them 'til they ran off crying."

Daddy's hands went all shaky on her shoulder and his eyes glimmered. His mouth moved in a silent question, but this time Dulcie knew what he meant.

"Yeah, Daddy. I can tell you more about Aji."

….

 **Note:** Dib's history from another fic of mine, Being Human, comes into play a bit here. BY THE WAY I TOTALLY FORGOT TO MENTION LAST TIME. So, the "triumph song" of the series has been "Try Everything" by Shakira, right? WELL I FOUND OUT THERE'S TWO TRIUMPH SONGS. **Try Everything** is the triumph song of Things We Lost, The Weight of Living, Torn Apart, and Flaws. However, the triumph song of the next fic (Laughter Lines) is **One Foot** by Walk The Moon. Another very important note to you, dear readers! I have launched a (pat re on)! If you have the chance please check it out and see if any of the perks interest you or if you'd like to help me reach any of my goal projects! There's a link on my author profile for it, or just search (pat re on) and my username! Chapter title excerpted from Little Talks by Of Monsters And Men.


	29. For Once I Was Alright

"Mem not crazy!" Dib scrunched himself in a corner and stayed there. Something was horribly wrong but he didn't know what. His arms curled over his head like he could protect his brains or keep them from falling out. Someone was trying to steal them. Steal the insides of his head and splatter them over the ground for everyone to laugh at.

All alone. All alone. Nobody gonna help.

Nobody care.

"Dib?"

His whole body flinched and he blurted, "Crazy! Not!"

The voice was so beautiful, why did he feel so sick about it? Like being wrapped in a nice warm blanket and then vomiting all over it. Something wrong. Something bad. Bad things coming.

"Bad!" he cried. "Bad run!" The beautiful voice should have a chance to escape, to not get caught in whatever hell was coming. "Believe run run!"

"Dib. I know you are afraid, but do not lash out at Dulcie."

Of course would never ever why would think you that? Good Dib being sick. Good Dib.

Small warm hug. Realer than blankets. Do not hit, do not strike, do not defend. Small warm hug good thing. Sick is less. Moving arms but hugs… how? How… forgot how to.

"I'm really sorry we had to do it, Dib. I'm so sorry." Small warm hug leaking pitter patter tears.

Don't leak, sick getting better. Maybe bad things not coming? Don't leak. "Leak. Sickless."

Cool hand on his forehead. Don't look up. Tense, tense, snapping point. Beautiful voice touching him, body screaming all different things. "I'm going to tell you who's here, Dib. My name is Teles Pepper, and I am here. Timothy Pepper, my husband, is also here."

Oh. Husband. Oh. Heart stab. Heart rend. Oh. Oh why? Why stars? Why never good things, only shatter?

"My son, Lewis Pepper. My daughters, Cayenne and Dulcie Pepper. We have a very important question for you. Will you listen?"

Scramblebrain shatterheart, how answer? Moaning, only moaning. Can't help listen, but how answer? Will fail! Will fail beautiful voice asking importance.

Oh beautiful voice. Just voice, no words, voicing silk and honey sounds. Body stops screaming. Different. Something… something…

Oh.

Oh.

Sobs. Sobs filling lungs from bottom up, crowding out the throat. Beautiful voice knows things. Secret things. Beautiful voice sees the hurted places. Tired places. So very tired, beautiful voice. All alone.

Beautiful voice knows, beautiful voice knows what alone is like. And tired. And hurt. So sad, why so sad? Don't be sad, beautiful voice…

"Mom! Be careful!"

Music turn. Waking sharp. What?

Song quieter, carefuller. Song, it's A song. Right word found.

Song sings but not just song, now. Other voices talk alongside song.

"You're not crazy. I've lived with sirens most of my life and now I'm a ghost. What you've been researching and chasing after? It's all real."

"I'm sure sure good kid. You. You, good kid. Means really well. Mistakes, yeah, yeah, but mistakes us all. We do."

"Zim isn't here. He never was. He died a long time ago, just like you said. It was just Arthur, playing a part."

"Dib, we want you to be part of our family. Lewis is my big brother first an' always but will you be, too?"

Head in hands. So much pounding in the head, so much tearing in the chest, so much sobs. Words keep on, song keeps on, singing Dib seen. Dib known. Dib cared for. Open seat at the table, Dib's name on the chair. Open door with laughing and loving inside. Come, Dib. Room with Peppers for the Membrane.

"We can help you keep making sense of this. As long as you like."

"Bet you bet you don't get a lot of lot home cooked, do you?"

"We're not just going to abandon you now."

"I promise I'll be a better little sister."

Dib lifted his arms. Like baby. Please. Help me, help…

…..

Dib lifted his face from his desk, rubbing bleary eyes. Arthur sat across from him, expression guarded, wary, as if expecting Dib to pull a blaster on him any second.

So tired. Yet, at the same time… refreshed?

He couldn't remember it properly. Blurs and scraps were all he had of the last couple days. Fortunately, security footage captured everything in his labs and he was able to see exactly what had gone down.

Even with the footage muted his body seized up every time he saw Teles and Arthur enter the testing chamber to begin another round of deconstruction. He'd only gone through that footage once and he could hardly bear it then.

Instead he pored over the three five-hour sessions that the Pepper family had spent calling him back from the edge, scrutinizing minute details. Absorbing and re-absorbing the healing words, unmuting short segments that had been marked as "within safe auditory range" to listen to her voice again. Teles Pepper.

He had fallen hard for her at first, that much was clear. Yet somewhere in the midst of the Pepper family surrounding him, his perception of her role in relation to himself shifted. He was not ready to slap an official label on the feeling, after all what mother had he ever known? It had only ever been his father there, at a distance. Half the time he suspected he and his sister were cloning experiments, but he'd never been able to dig up proof.

"How did this even happen," he muttered, running his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time. "What kind of natural disaster are you people? Together?"

A wry grin like a slash mark curved up Arthur's face. He lifted his shoulders once and dropped them, shaking his head.

"You should all be separated permanently for the sake of anyone you come across." Dib slumped back in his chair. He didn't mean it, of course, and anyway he doubted anyone who tried would be able to succeed for long.

Arthur was still smiling like he found everything Dib was saying funny. In spite of himself, Dib allowed a weary smile. "Still. You all kept your end of the deal. I'm on the hook for life, it seems, but aside from that little addiction, all brain scans say I'm running at peak performance. Better, even, than I ever have."

He glanced back down at the feed, freezing it for a moment. He drew more reassurance from the uneasy expression on Kay's face and the stiff, withdrawn posture Lewis held than they would ever know. All Peppers had agreed and would help, but not all Peppers were at ease with the idea of making him a part of the family. This was no concerted effort to hoodwink him, this was a real family, made up of differing personalities and viewpoints, offering him a place with them. Or, at least, a chance.

"So, if this worked on me, chances are it will work on Mr. Pepper. I assume after your meeting with me, you'll leave to let Mrs. Pepper know it's time to work with Mr. Pepper?"

"Yes." Arthur leaned back in his wheelchair. "One would assume that after years of marriage she would know his deepest needs and desires."

Dib snorted. "One would assume, but that's no guarantee."

Arthur tilted his head. "Of course it's no guarantee, but she voiced her guess to the rest of the family and myself and we concur it is likely to be accurate."

"Well, what does he want?"

"According to Teles, Timothy wants to know that she really loves him, in spite of the curse bringing them together."

Dib shook his head. "Yeah, well, that's not something I can weigh in on. Haven't been around you all long enough to tell."

 **Looks like that's going to change,** __Arthur signed. **I hope there's no hard feelings. You seem nice.**

Dib's mouth quirked. "Nice" was the last word he'd have used to describe himself, but he could recognize an effort at friendship when it was extended to him. Truth be told, he could use someone like Arthur around and he might as well make that clear.

"No hard feelings. I'm sure I'll tell you all about Zim at some point so you understand exactly what happened back there." He cleared his throat. "Also. It looks like everyone's recovery is proceeding nicely, which is fabulous, but there's still an inordinate amount of work to be done in order to integrate the Peppers back into society. Not to mention helping me have some sort of result to show the trust fund so they unfreeze my assets."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"I've already offered Vivi a position managing my appointments and assisting me in my research. I'd like to offer you a contract to maintain the equipment in my labs. I could use your help designing new tech out of the alien scrap we scavenge, not to mention an extra brain on analysis of particularly difficult cases."

Both eyebrows were up now, but there was still a frown on Arthur's face. **My uncle has first dibs on my help at the shop.** He pause. **I mean he gets my help first.**

Dib rolled his eyes. "Yeah, of course he does. You don't have to live here. Give me one week a month in my labs, or every other weekend, or slow shop days, even. I just want to hear you're willing to work something out with me part time."

 **It's pretty far out, isn't it? I wasn't really conscious for the trip over but seems like we're in the middle of nowhere.**

"Yeah. Well. I'm already working on a few ideas that might lessen travel time. Any other questions?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Do you have any intentions regarding Kay or Dulcie?"

"I might ask Kay to stop by for research purposes, but under the same terms as before; she has full veto power over any and all tests and I will explain them beforehand. Dulcie? I don't know. That dreamwalking ability is quite fascinating. I may ask her and Chloe to visit as well, if they are willing."

Arthur's head was tilted so far to the side it was nearly sideways, staring at Dib with impenetrable green eyes. "You are a very strange scientist, allowing us all this power and permission."

"Yeah, well, this is an exceptional case in every regard."

"According to our memories, most paranormal investigators prefer to cash their discoveries in for money or fame."

Dib snorted. "Arthur, I'm Dib Membrane. My father already left me a fortune and some clout from his reputation. Besides, I figured out a long time ago that not every paranormal being is hazardous to humans. There are some cases out there just trying to survive and get along. The deserve a helping hand, not life under glass." He shrugged. "Sure, I'd love it if my name quit being a punch line for jokes about insanity and sometimes I still struggle with what I want, but mostly I'm used to it. There's more important things than recognition."

"You do not smell of envy anymore," Arthur said quietly. "And you speak like it has always been this way, but we have scented the struggle far more often than you've let on. Until now."

Dib scratched his ear. "Yeah, well. I guess some things got clarified and reinforced in ways I didn't expect." He glanced back at Arthur. "How much longer are you in the chair?"

 **I can already wheel myself, now. One more day and I should be able to walk safely.** His eyes twinkled. **I assume you will want all the details of the superhuman healing rate.**

"Of course."

 **Of course.**

Dib waved a hand. "Alright. Go on, clear the treatment plan with Mrs. Pepper. And could you send Dulcie in? I have something I need to discuss with her."

Saluting, Arthur wheeled himself toward the door.

Dib rewound the footage, raising the volume just enough to hear his favorite part again.

 _"Dib, we want you to be part of our family."_

….

"Vivi?"

Vivi lifted her head from the book she'd been reading aloud. Kay stood in the doorway of Lewis' library, biting her lip.

"Hey, Kay!" Vivi waved. "Come on in, we're almost finished."

"But they're just going to find out who their father is!" Lewis protested. "You can't stop there!"

Vivi elbowed him in the ribs. "It can wait a few minutes, can't you see Kay has something important to talk about?"

Lewis blinked. "How do you know? She hasn't said anything."

Vivi sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Boys. What can we do for you, Kay?"

With a nervous smile, Kay produced a single golden feather. "I, um. Arthur told me you did this for him once. I mean, took a feather I gave him and had it enchanted. Like an amulet?"

"Talisman. He had me make him a protection talisman. Sure!" Vivi crossed over to Kay and took the end of the feather, but Kay didn't let go.

"I want to help with the spell, too. Can that happen?" She glanced over at Lewis. "Privately. I want it to be something special and I need to talk to you about it alone, Vivi."

Sighing, Lewis floated past, kissing Vivi on the cheek and yanking Kay's ponytail before drifting out of the library.

Frowning, Vivi regarded the feather. "O-kay. So what exactly did you have in mind?"

….

 **Note:** Updates! I am moving from Los Angeles to Houston next week so there might be a bit of a gap for a while as we deal with that, but this is still the home stretch of Flaws. Also I have opened a (pat reon) (with this same username)! I'll be gently reminding people at the end of each chapter from now on but that's all it is, a gentle reminder that it's there, not an obligation. The fanfiction will always be free! There are, however, other perks… Chapter title excerpted from Up All Night by Owl City.


	30. The Best is Yet to Come

"Gotcha."

Dulcie started, whirling around with a cold sandwich in hand. Dib stood in the kitchen doorway, blocking her exit. A Deadbeat hovered over his shoulder, little nubs crossed with disapproval.

Dulcie's face fell. "That's not fair, Lewis," she muttered.

The Deadbeat chittered at her, shaking a nub in her direction.

"What's really not fair is telling Arthur you'll be right in to see me." Dib leaned forward, his goggles glinting. "Two days ago. Then hiding in every nook and cranny of this godsforsaken mansion until I have to beg your ghostly brother for help finding you. He was already in a bad mood, too."

Defeated, Dulcie pulled a stool over, hopping up. She wasn't hungry anymore. She set her sandwich on the counter, staring at it like it had done something terrible.

The stool beside her screeched and Dib settled onto it, folding his arms on the counter. "So. How come you been avoiding me?"

Shrugging, she kept her eyes fixed on the sandwich. That was a lie, but at least she hadn't said it with her mouth.

"Dulcie, I'm not very good with being gentle, so I'm about to be very blunt. I'd prefer you answer me first so I don't put my foot in my mouth or hurt you."

She scrunched up over the sandwich, squaring her shoulders and bracing herself. Dib sighed. "Stubborn mules, the lot of you. Are you giving up on being my sister that quickly?"

Shocked, she jerked her head up, blinking.

"Were you just joking about the family offer?" he demanded.

She shook her head hard, pigtails hitting her face and the back of her head. _Fwap fwap fwap fwap._

"Then why are you avoiding me?" he pressed.

Back down to the sandwich. She opened her mouth, but the words lodged up in her throat and wouldn't come out. Blinking hard, she swiped at the tears threatening to give her away. She tried again. "You… don't want me. I got in your head. I told them your secrets."

"That's what this is about?" Dib groaned. "Save me from your family's never-ending guilt complex… look. It's gone."

She peered up at him, confused.

"The nightmare dimension. I haven't had a nightmare for two nights, now. Chloe doesn't even know what I'm talking about and given your level of avoidance I don't think you're keeping the monsters away this time."

Dulcie's eyes widened.

"Whatever you two did the last time you were there? I mean, Chloe mentioned she woke up pouring out huge levels of light and magic the last time you two went into my dreams, I have to assume that did some kind of purge. Maybe between that and rewiring my brain…" he shrugged his shoulders. "The dimension is either gone or sealed off. My dreams aren't all good, but they aren't nightmares anymore. Why would I be mad about that? And," he reached over, shutting her gaping mouth, "would you stop goldfishing like that? You have a gift, you used it in a way that helped me, why is it so shocking that I want to see you and thank you?"

Dulcie swallowed. "But, that's not why you wanted to see me two days ago."

"You're right. I wanted to tell you, even before I realized the nightmares were gone, that I wasn't mad about you going in my dreams. This was just the cherry on top. You seem to be pretty determined to believe I'm mad at you. Mind knocking that off?"

Dulcie shifted, shrugging her shoulders again.

"Hey."

She glanced sidelong at him.

"You did something nobody else would have cared to do, even if they could. And then you offered to be family. It's not every day good things just fall into my lap and ask to stay, kid." Light glinted off his goggles. "Is there anything I could do for you? That's an awful lot of gifts to give a guy. Makes me want to give something back."

Running her hand along her arm, she murmured, "You already helped us find a way to cure Daddy. He needs more time with Mom, but he already shakes less. Unless you can turn me human before I fledge, there's not really anything else."

"About that." He cut her off. "No, I can't do that. I'm good, but I'm not that good. However, I have something else that might interest you." He reached into his trench coat and pulled out a sheaf of papers, setting them in front of her. "I already kind of picked up on that wish and I didn't even have to get in your head. Funny how you can know cameras are on all the time and still forget they're recording your every word. You're really scared of becoming like your Mom, huh?"

The papers each had a different name. Timothy. Aji. Cayenne. Teles. Dulcie. She ducked her head. The words and numbers on the pages made no sense to her.

"Don't be embarrassed, this is way over your grade level. That's why I'm here, to help make sense of it. You see this?" He put Teles' paper next to Timothy's. "This helps me see the differences in your Daddy's body and your Mommy's. I found this out with their skin, hair, and saliva samples. Now," he arranged Aji's paper next to Kay's underneath their parents. "See this line up here, on Teles' page? The same one shows up here," he tapped Kay's page, "And here." His finger rested on Aji's page a moment. Then he lined up Dulcie's page next to theirs. "Take a look at this. Tell me if you see it."

Blinking, Dulcie studied the line on her sisters' pages and then looked at hers. Try as she might, she couldn't match it up anywhere. Looking back at Dib, she asked, "Okay, it's not there. What does that mean?"

"It means you're probably never going to fledge, kid. You got more of your Dad in you than your Mom in the ways you wanted."

Dulcie's lips parted. Dib's mouth kept moving, but his voice seemed to be coming from a great distance.

"It might crop up in your kids or grandkids, but I'm about 96% sure you don't have siren abilities and never will."

A small, wounded sound escaped her. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but everything already looked wavery.

Dib sucked in a sharp breath, sweeping the papers into a pile. "I'm sorry, kid. Put my foot in my mouth, I just thought you wanted—"

Dulcie's hand shot out, clutching the papers. A sob rolled up from her midsection, humping her shoulders up to her ears as she shook.

"Di-i-ib. Do you even kno-hoooow?" She tried to cram the words out before they were buried in tears. "Then Lewis d-d-dying really really wasn't my fa-a-ault a-a-and I n-n-never made Daddy do s-s-s-something he didn't wa-a-ant even by accident and and and and…" she hauled in a breath and thought she might never stop inhaling, "and I can't ever force some-some-someone to love me and and maybe I can…" she broke off. Her mouth twisted around and it felt like someone was punching her stomach and rolling giant weights off her shoulders all at once. She clutched the papers to her chest. "M-m-m-maybe I can study music just like Lewis, Dib. Maybe I can… sing for…. people… I used to… pretend…"

As the words drowned under the weight of her tears, Dib pulled her into his arms and sighed. "We have _got_ to do something about this genetic guilt complex because I am the wrong choice for family therapy."

…

Arthur ran the index finger of his right hand along the ring finger of his prosthetic. Two days. Plenty of time to work on a special project, but he hadn't seen Kay once. Hadn't gotten to talk more about the day he'd drained from her lifespan. Hadn't gotten to apologize or swear he'd never do it again or any of the other things he wanted to say and was pretty sure Lewis wanted him to say.

Lewis had been yelling at Vivi over something yesterday. Arcturus had been curious, too, but more insistent that enhancing their hearing to pick up the nuances of the argument was a waste of resources. It worried Artie, though, that Lewis would yell at Vivi like that. What was going on _now_? Was it something he'd have to fix or was he supposed to let them deal with it themselves?

He crouched at the top of a rocky outcropping a quarter mile from the mini-mart, watching the stars overhead. The wind knifed across his skin, drawing water from his eyes, but he didn't budge. Dib had finally allowed surface leave for most of the group and Arthur hadn't seen the sky in weeks. He felt sorry for Chloe, though. She, alone, was not allowed topside yet. He had to work something out with Arcturus for her. Surely there was some way to harness her magic into a glamour of sorts so she could come out.

 _The stars are beautiful._

Arthur raised an eyebrow. So, Arcturus had an appreciation of beauty. That was something new.

A prairie hawk screeched in the dark. Arthur shifted his eyes from the sky to the ground, scanning the surrounding area. The matter of the vanishing fox had been buried by more important issues, but it still bothered Arthur. It bothered Dib too, enough that Dib disclosed older footage from Kay's room and his own witness account from the night Kay was called back from the edge.

"I'm telling you, Arthur, however many sirens were around, there was always an extra voice when that fox was present. When Kay was sleeping and you were out of the room? Something was using the siren call. When Lewis tried to get Kay back, his violin just wasn't cutting it alone. It didn't work until that extra voice chimed in with the same song. Teles was gagged, Arthur. Couldn't have been her. Nobody's seen the fox since."

It bothered Arthur, but he had no more answers than Dib. There was no recent scent of the fox for a one mile radius around the mini-mart. Or of Mystery, for that matter.

He hugged his knees. Once again, he wished Mystery had stayed. Whatever he was hoping to find could have waited. Arthur needed more answers. He needed more help. Arcturus was still being stubborn about way too many things.

A shadow passed overhead. Arthur threw himself back under a little overhang in the rock.

"Just me," a soft voice called down and Arthur relaxed. "Coming in for a landing."

He stayed put, allowing Kay to choose her spot. She hit the rock feet-first, tumbling to her knees and scraping talons along stone. Arthur winced, leaving the overhang to help her to her feet.

She coughed, grimacing. "Rusty. Haven't had a proper flight in too long."

 _"Dib will be all over your case for this," you mumble, steadying her. "You know what he says about satellite imagery and all that. You could have walked over."_

"Yeah and you don't have to be out here at nighttime freezing your rear off." She shook her wings, the feathers fluffing up. "You're not the only one who missed the outdoors. Besides, it was a short flight. In the dark. Worst case scenario some conspiracy theorist gets a blurry bigfoot-level photo they can't prove."

Arthur peered at her face through the dark. He couldn't make out every detail, but her eyelids drooped. Most of her body drooped, actually.

 _"We were concerned. We haven't seen you for a few days and you seem tired."_

"I needed some rest. Vivi and I had a pretty intense project to work on. That's what I came to talk to you about."

Arthur started. Did this have to do with why Lewis was yelling at Vivi?

Kay's plumage shrank back into her arms and she fumbled in her pocket. She thrust a small flashlight into Arthur's hands. "Would you please turn this on? It's dark out here and I practiced this hard to make sure I get it right."

She'd carefully phrased it as a question, Arthur noted. He switched the flashlight on and pointed it at her hands. To his surprise, there was one yellow plume left, clasped between her fingers. Her hands trembled.

"I'm going to ask you a question, Arthur. I hope that you will not answer it right away, because after I ask the question I'm going to explain what I mean by asking it. Would you please wait until I'm done explaining?"

With a nervous twinge in his gut, Arthur nodded once.

Kay took a breath in slowly through her nose, let it out through her mouth, and reached out one hand, putting it on Arthur's chest. Removing it, she cupped her hands into crescents, clapping them across each other at the curve. Then she put one hand on her own chest.

Arthur's jaw went slack.

 **You. Marry. Me?**

Kay poured words into his stunned silence. "And there, now you have complete and total freedom because I didn't even ask out loud. But, okay, so." Her hands still trembled as she gripped the feather. "If your first reaction isn't, 'No,' then I need this to be different than my parents. You did everything you could to bring me back and protect me. And, and I'm really grateful. I…" She swiped a hand across her nose. "It feels really nice to know someone's looking out for me like that. But most of that time you didn't have someone watching your back for you. Not steadily. You got lucky mostly and it still wrecked you and I'm not okay with that. I'm not okay with you just going it alone and not having someone there looking out for you the way you looked out for me."

Talons poked through the tips of her fingers. She took another deep breath, drawing them back under her skin. "So. That question. It means you'll let me be there to have your back, too."

She repeated the sign once more, then extended the feather to him, fingers curled around it to keep it from blowing away.

Kay in his life as long as he lived. He'd hoped, but…

 _But there's no need to rehash this, Puppet. We've both known the answer for a long time, now._

Arthur slowly handed the flashlight back over to Kay, then knelt on the rock and raised his prosthetic. In the light of the harsh beam, he curled all but the ring-finger of the prosthetic inward toward the palm. He pinched the base of the ring-finger between the thumb and forefinger of his real hand. A circular band of metal sprang free, a ring that split in half, leaving a wide, shallow groove at the base of the finger. Arthur took the two halves of the circle, clicking them together and lifting up a shiny silver ring. It had been two days in the making, carving it from his prosthetic with no room for error, but it worked.

He held it up in one hand, stretching the other hand out for the feather.

Kay huffed a short laugh. "Wow, sorry. Guess I only beat you to it by a little, huh?"

Arthur gazed up at her. Shadows blurred her features but the moon illuminated her hair from behind. He could picture the kind of smile she wore by the sheepish tone of her voice. The voice that led him out of madness and re-established who he was so many times. Kind Kay. Gentle Kay. Cayenne Pepper, who wanted to look after him as much as he wanted to look after her. He offered the ring again, reaching out to pluck the feather from her fingers.

Kay took the ring, sliding it onto her finger. "Keep that feather close," she said, quietly. "It has two weeks of my life attached to it. Vivi helped me."

Arthur shot to his feet, his mouth already working, but Kay laid a finger across his lips.

"Arthur. Whatever secrets Arcturus is keeping, you and I both know past bills always come due. You have paid the bill for our family's curse more than you ever should have had to. This isn't even a fraction of what we owe you, but we could never pay that. This," she said quietly, closing his hand around the feather, "is for emergencies only. I pray you never need it, but I will not lose you because of something neither of us could forsee. I can't." She took a deep breath. "Please. I know you don't like this, but please would you respect that I can make decisions to protect people I love just like you do?"

 _Oh, Artie. How ever did you find this one?_

Arthur lifted his prosthetic again, opening a long, narrow panel in the forearm and tucking the feather inside, then closed the panel. He made a fist, raised it, and bent it forward twice.

 **Yes.** And then **Yes marry you. You marry me?**

She gave a little choked laugh, nodding her head and came closer. He circled his arms around her shoulders and found her lips. Soft and warm. It was a short kiss, but then there was another. And another, and another and he could scarcely breathe for her lips on his and her hands up in his hair and oh, gods, everything was finally going to be alright again.

A flashlight clattered down the face of the outcropping to land, abandoned, on the desert floor. A tiny pink ghost made its way back to the nearby Mini-Mart to relay details. A prairie hawk wheeled overhead, winging its way out of the desert.

None of it mattered to two figures under the moon.

…..

 _Knock knock knock._

Vivi rapped her knuckles on the door. The thirty sixth door of the day, to be exact. No telling which one Lewis was behind in this mansion and since he could reshape it to his will, the only way she'd find a ghost that didn't want to be found was by letting him know she wasn't giving up that easily and waiting for him to cave.

No answer. Well, fine. She could do this all day. She stalked down to the thirty seventh door, raising her hand to knock.

The door cracked open, ever so slightly.

"About time," Vivi muttered, shoving it open and entering. Her irritation sputtered, fading at the sight of Lewis sitting cross-legged in the middle of an empty room, his back to her, his bare skull in his hands.

Quietly, she circled around front, nudging his arms aside and settling in his lap. Reaching up, she tugged his skull free and pulled it down, wrapping her arms around it.

His arms circled around her. The sound of a heavy sigh vibrated through the room.

"You were right, Vee. You're right. I just… I hate seeing her get hurt at all. I don't want her to have to sacrifice anything." He huddled over Vivi. "But she wants to and she's all grown up and she picked somebody else to look out for her."

Vivi chose to forgo "I told you so" and hugged his head, resting her cheek against the top of his skull.

"Deadbeats say she really did it. Went and proposed." He chuckled weakly. "They said he couldn't find his jaw for a good while."

Vivi snickered at the mental image. "Figures. Did the dork answer?"

"Yeah. Looks like they're going to go through with it." Lewis' skull rotated in Vivi's arms until he was looking back up at her. "What about you? Seems like Dib's friends could teach you a lot. What are you going to do now?"

"Oh, well. I already applied to be Dib's personal assistant as part of this package deal from the start, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind loaning me out to this Swollen Eyeball group to learn more. They all have funny names, but there's a couple magic specialists that should help me start filling in the blanks, like the spell Kay needed." She ran a finger from his forehead down to the hole where his nose would have been. "What about you, flame brain? What do you want?"

Lewis' eyes dimmed. The corner's of Vivi's mouth pulled down. "Aside from the thing I can't ever make happen for you." She drew his skull into an embrace. "I'd bring you back in a heartbeat if I could."

Lewis' arms tightened around her as well. "I know. What do I want?" there was a long pause. "I want to stay with you, Vee. I know you'll probably move on and… and I won't stop you. Just… I want to stay and watch over you. Can I do that, Vee? Please?"

She pulled back from his skull, staring down at him in disbelief. "Move… on? Move… you…" she swatted his arms aside and tossed his skull back up to his neck, huffing up to her feet and turning around to face him. She jammed her hand into her pocket and pulled out the little gray box she'd been carrying around. "What is this?" she demanded.

Lewis tilted his head, his eyes going back and forth between Vivi and the box. "Um… I thought you knew?"

"Say it!"

"An engagement ring," he said quietly. "I was waiting for… well. The right time."

She flipped the box open. Seated in a plush velvet display was a delicate silver band that cupped three small sapphires. Simple. Straightforward. Beautiful.

"And that's what you wanted back then?" she pressed. "What about now?"

"Now?" his voice was pained. "Now, Vee? I'm dead."

"What. About. Now."

"Vee, please. I don't know what you want from me."

She shut her eyes for a moment and counted to ten, then opened them. "Would you still give me this now? And don't say 'I'm dead' one more time, just answer the question."

He looked down at the ring again, then raised his eyes to hers. "Yeah," he said, softly.

She took his hand and dropped the ring into it, closing his fingers around it. Then she stretched her left hand out to him, fingers splayed. "Well. What are you waiting for?"

He looked down at the ring in his hand, then over to her fingers, then back to the ring.

"You… don't mind… being haunted forever? Not having someone… living?"

She opened her mouth to snap at him, then shut it with a click as his tone caught up to her. He wasn't questioning her judgment or challenging her decision. He wanted to know he was enough.

She took one more step, bringing her fingers closer. Silently, he slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. Then he reached into his suit and pulled out a gently pulsing heart locket, placing it in Vivi's hands as well.

Vivi took the locket and clasped the cord around her neck, then pulled Lewis close, resting her head against his chest. "Until death reunites us," she whispered. "This is what I want."

….

 **Note:** AND THE RECOVERY FIC IS COMPLETE. I did not expect… most of that fic, actually. So here's the plan! I'm going to focus on moving into the new home. I'm going to re-read this series from the top to make sure I don't lose track of any threads I started. Then, hopefully soon, I will launch into the final (PLEASE GOD I HOPE, NO MORE SURPRISES) fic of the Just Legends series. Keep an eye out for Laughter Lines! If you have time, check out my new (pat reon)! Chapter title excerpted from The Best Is Yet To Come by Sheppard.


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